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WOODSTOCK 


BY 


SIR  WALTER  SCOTT 


BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 
HOUGHTON   MUFFLIN   COMPANY 


COPYRIGHT,    1 9 13 
BY    HOUGHTON    MIFFLIN    COMPANY 

ALL    RIGHTS    RESERVED 


*«^i 


V^A  m 


3s"/si 


WOODSTOCK 

OR 

THE  CAVALIER 

A  TALE  OF  THE  YEAR  SIXTEEN  HUNDRED 
AND  FIFTY-ONE 

VOLUME  I 

He  was  a  very  perfect  gentle  Knight 

Chaucer 


INTRODUCTION 

The  busy  period  of  the  great  Civil  War  was  one  in  which 
the  character  and  genius  of  different  parties  were  most 
brilliantly  displayed,  and,  accordingly,  the  incidents 
which  took  place  on  either  side  were  of  a  striking  and 
extraordinary  character,  and  afforded  ample  foundation 
for  fictitious  composition.  The  Author  had  in  some 
measure  attempted  such  in  Peveril  of  the  Peak  ;  but  the 
scene  was  in  a  remote  part  of  the  kingdom,  and  mingled 
with  other  national  differences,  which  left  him  still  at 
liberty  to  glean  another  harvest  out  of  so  ample  a  store. 

In  these  circumstances,  some  wonderful  adventures 
which  happened  at  Woodstock  in  the  year  1649  occurred 
to  him  as  something  he  had  long  ago  read  of,  although 
he  was  unable  to  tell  where,  and  of  which  the  hint  ap- 
peared sufficient,  although,  doubtless,  it  might  have 
been  much  better  handled  if  the  Author  had  not,  in  the 
lapse  of  time,  lost  everything  like  an  accurate  recollec- 
tion of  the  real  story. 

It  was  not  until  about  this  period,  namely,  1831,  that 
the  Author,  being  called  upon  to  write  this  Introduc- 
tion, obtained  a  general  account  of  what  really  happened 
upon  the  marvellous  occasion  in  question,  in  a  work 
termed  The  Every-day  Book,  published  by  Mr.  Hone, 
and  full  of  curious  antiquarian  research,  the  object  being 
to  give  a  variety  of  original  information  concerning 
manners,  illustrated  by  curious  instances,  rarely  to  be 
found  elsewhere.  Among  other  matter,  Mr.  Hone  quotes 
an  article  from  the  British  Magazine  for  1747,  in  the  fol- 

ix 


INTRODUCTION 

lowing  words,  and  which  is  probably  the  document 
which  the  Author  of  Woodstock  had  formerly  perused, 
although  he  was  unable  to  refer  to  the  source  of  his  in- 
formation. The  tract  is  entitled,  The  Genuine  History 
of  tJie  Good  Devil  of  Woodstock,  Famous  in  the  World  in 
the  Year  1649,  and  never  accounted  for ,  or  at  all  understood 
to  this  Time. 

The  teller  of  this  "genuine  history"  proceeds  verba- 
tim as  follows:  — 

'Some  original  papers  having  lately  fallen  into  my 
hands,  under  the  name  of  Authentic  Memoirs  of  the 
Memorable  Joseph  Collins  of  Oxford,  commonly  known  by 
the  Name  of  Funny  Joe,  and  now  intended  for  the  Press, 
I  was  extremely  delighted  to  find  in  them  a  circumstan- 
tial and  unquestionable  account  of  the  most  famous  of 
all  invisible  agents,  so  well  known  in  the  year  1649,  under 
the  name  of  the  Good  Devil  of  Woodstock,  and  even 
adored  by  the  people  of  that  place,  for  the  vexation  and 
distress  it  occasioned  some  people  they  were  not  much 
pleased  with.  As  this  famous  story,  though  related  by  a 
thousand  people,  and  attested  in  all  its  circumstances, 
beyond  all  possibility  of  doubt,  by  people  of  rank,  learn- 
ing, and  reputation,  of  Oxford  and  the  adjacent  towns, 
has  never  yet  been  generally  accounted  for,  or  at  all 
understood,  and  is  perfectly  explained,  in  a  manner 
that  can  admit  of  no  doubt,  in  these  papers,  I  could  not 
refuse  my  readers  their  share  of  the  pleasure  it  gave  me 
in  reading.' 

There  is,  therefore,  no  doubt  that,  in  the  year  1649,  a 
number  of  incidents,  supposed  to  be  supernatural,  took 
place  at  the  king's  palace  of  Woodstock,  which  the  Com- 
missioners of  Parliament  were  then  and  there  endeavour- 


INTRODUCTION 

ing  to  dilapidate  and  destroy.  The  account  of  this  by 
the  Commissioners  themselves,  or  under  their  authority, 
was  repeatedly  published,  and,  in  particular,  is  inserted 
as  Relation  Sixth  of  Satan's  Invisible  World  Discovered, 
by  George  Sinclair,  Professor  of  Philosophy  in  Glasgow, 
an  approved  collector  of  such  tales. 

It  was  the  object  of  neither  of  the  great  political  par- 
ties of  that  day  to  discredit  this  narrative,  which  gave 
great  satisfaction  both  to  the  Cavaliers  and  Round- 
heads; the  former  conceiving  that  the  license  given  to 
the  demons  was  in  consequence  of  the  impious  desecra- 
tion of  the  king's  furniture  and  apartments,  so  that  the 
citizens  of  Woodstock  almost  adored  the  supposed  spirits, 
as  avengers  of  the  cause  of  royalty;  while  the  friends  of 
the  Parliament,  on  the  other  hand,  imputed  to  the 
malice  of  the  fiend  the  obstruction  of  the  pious  work, 
as  they  judged  that  which  they  had  in  hand. 

At  the  risk  of  prolonging  a  curious  quotation,  I  include 
a  page  or  two  from  Mr.  Hone's  Every-day  Book. 

'The  honourable  the  Commissioners  arrived  at  Wood- 
stock manor-house,  October  13th,  and  took  up  their 
residence  in  the  King's  own  rooms.  His  Majesty's  bed- 
chamber they  made  their  kitchen,  the  council-hall  their 
pantry,  and  the  presence-chamber  was  the  place  where 
they  sat  for  dispatch  of  business.  His  Majesty's  dining- 
room  they  made  their  wood-yard,  and  stowed  it  with  no 
other  wood  but  that  of  the  famous  Royal  Oak  from  the 
High  Park,  which,  that  nothing  might  be  left  with  the 
name  of  the  King  about  it,  they  had  dug  up  by  the  roots, 
and  bundled  up  into  faggots  for  their  firing. 

'October  16.  —  This  day  they  first  sat  for  the  dispatch 

xi 


INTRODUCTION 

of  business.  In  the  midst  of  their  first  debate  there  en- 
tered a  large  black  dog,  (as  they  thought,)  which  made  a 
terrible  howling,  overturned  two  or  three  of  their  chairs, 
and  doing  some  other  damage,  went  under  the  bed,  and 
there  gnawed  the  cords.  The  door  this  while  continued 
constantly  shut,  when,  after  some  two  or  three  hours, 
Giles  Sharp,  their  secretary,  looking  under  the  bed,  per- 
ceived that  the  creature  was  vanished,  and  that  a  plate 
of  meat  that  the  servants  had  hid  there  was  untouched, 
and  showing  them  to  their  honours,  they  were  all  con- 
vinced there  could  be  no  real  dog  concerned  in  the  case; 
the  said  Giles  also  deposed  on  oath,  that,  to  his  certain 
knowledge,  there  was  not. 

^October  17.  —  As  they  were  this  day  sitting  at  dinner 
in  a  lower  room,  they  heard  plainly  the  noise  of  persons 
walking  over  head,  though  they  well  knew  the  doors 
were  all  locked,  and  there  could  be  none  there.  Presently 
after  they  heard  also  all  the  wood  of  the  King's  Oak 
brought  by  parcels  from  the  dining-room,  and  thrown 
with  great  violence  into  the  presence-chamber,  as  also 
the  chairs,  stools,  tables,  and  other  furniture,  forcibly 
hurled  about  the  room,  their  own  papers  of  the  minutes 
of  their  transactions  torn,  and  the  ink-glass  broken. 
When  all  this  had  some  time  ceased,  the  said  Giles  pro- 
posed to  enter  first  into  these  rooms,  and,  in  presence  of 
the  Commissioners,  of  whom  he  received  the  key,  he 
opened  the  door,  and  entered  the  room,  their  honours 
following  him.  He  there  found  the  wood  strewed  about 
the  room,  the  chairs  tossed  about  and  broken,  the  papers 
torn,  and  the  ink-glass  broken  over  them  all  as  they  had 
heard,  yet  no  footsteps  appeared  of  any  person  whatever 
being  there,  nor  had  the  doors  ever  been  opened  to  admit 

xii 


INTRODUCTION 

or  let  out  any  persons  since  their  honours  were  last  there. 
It  was  therefore  voted,  nem.  con.,  that  the  person  who 
did  this  mischief  could  have  entered  no  other  way  than 
at  the  key-hole  of  the  said  doors. 

*  In  the  night  following  this  same  day,  the  said  Giles, 
and  two  other  of  the  Commissioners'  servants,  as  they 
were  in  bed  in  the  same  room  with  their  honours,  had 
their  bed's  feet  lifted  up  so  much  higher  than  their  heads 
that  they  expected  to  have  their  necks  broken,  and  then 
they  were  let  fall  at  once  with  such  violence  as  shook 
them  up  from  the  bed  to  a  good  distance ;  and  this  was 
repeated  many  times,  their  honours  being  amazed 
spectators  of  it.  In  the  morning  the  bedsteads  were 
found  cracked  and  broken,  and  the  said  Giles  and  his 
fellows  declared  they  were  sore  to  the  bones  with  the 
tossing  and  jolting  of  the  beds. 

^October  19.  —  As  they  were  all  in  bed  together,  the 
candles  were  all  blown  out  together  with  a  sulphurous 
smell,  and  instantly  many  trenchers  of  wood  were 
hurled  about  the  room;  and  one  of  them,  putting  his 
head  above  the  clothes,  had  not  less  than  six  thrown  at 
him,  which  wounded  him  very  grievously.  In  the  morn- 
ing the  trenchers  were  all  found  lying  about  the  room, 
and  were  observed  to  be  the  same  they  had  eaten  on  the 
day  before,  none  being  found  remaining  in  the  pantry. 

^October  20.  —  This  night  the  candles  were  put  out 
as  before;  the  curtains  of  the  bed  in  which  their  honours 
lay  were  drawn  to  and  fro  many  times  with  great  vio- 
lence ;  their  honours  received  many  cruel  blows,  and  were 
much  bruised  beside,  with  eight  great  pewter  dishes,  and 
three  dozen  wooden  trenchers,  which  were  thrown  on 
the  bed,  and  afterwards  heard  rolling  about  the  room. 

xiii 


INTRODUCTION 

'Many  times  also  this  night  they  heard  the  forcible 
falling  of  many  faggots  by  their  bedside,  but  in  the 
morning  no  faggots  were  found  there,  no  dishes  or 
trenchers  were  there  seen  either;  and  the  aforesaid  Giles 
attests,  that  by  their  different  arranging  in  the  pantry, 
they  had  assuredly  been  taken  thence,  and  after  put 
there  again. 

*■  October  21.  —  The  keeper  of  their  ordinary  and  his 
bitch  lay  with  them.  This  night  they  had  no  disturbance. 

^October  22.  —  Candles  put  out  as  before.  They  had 
the  said  bitch  with  them  again,  but  were  not  by  that 
protected :  the  bitch  set  up  a  very  piteous  cry ;  the  clothes 
of  their  beds  were  all  pulled  off;  and  the  bricks,  without 
any  wind,  were  thrown  off  the  chimney  tops  into  the 
midst. 

^October  24.  —  The  candles  put  out  as  before.  They 
thought  all  the  wood  of  the  King's  Oak  was  violently 
thrown  down  by  their  bedsides;  they  counted  sixty-four 
faggots  that  fell  with  great  violence,  and  some  hit  and 
shook  the  bed ;  but  in  the  morning  none  were  found  there, 
nor  the  door  of  the  room  opened  in  which  the  said  fag- 
gots were. 

'October  25.  —  The  candles  put  out  as  before.  The 
curtains  of  the  bed  in  the  drawing-room  were  many 
times  forcibly  drawn;  the  wood  thrown  out  as  before;  a 
terrible  crack  like  thunder  was  heard;  and  one  of  the 
servants,  running  to  see  if  his  master  was  not  killed, 
found  at  his  return  three  dozen  trenchers  laid  smoothly 
upon  his  bed  under  the  quilt. 

'October  26.  —  The  beds  were  shaken  as  before;  the 
windows  seemed  all  broken  to  pieces,  and  glass  fell  in  vast 
quantities  all  about  the  room.    In  the  morning  they 

xiv 


INTRODUCTION 

found  the  windows  all  whole,  but  the  floor  strewed  with 
broken  glass,  which  they  gathered  and  laid  by. 

^October  29.  —  At  midnight  candles  went  out  as  before; 
something  walked  majestically  through  the  room,  and 
opened  and  shut  the  window ;  great  stones  were  thrown 
violently  into  the  room,  some  whereof  fell  on  the  beds, 
others  on  the  floor;  and  about  a  quarter  after  one,  a 
noise  was  heard  as  of  forty  cannon  discharged  together, 
and  again  repeated  at  about  eight  minutes'  distance. 
This  alarmed  and  raised  all  the  neighbourhood,  who, 
coming  into  their  honours'  room,  gathered  up  the  great 
stones,  fourscore  in  number,  many  of  them  like  common 
pebbles  and  boulters,  and  laid  them  by,  where  they  are 
to  be  seen  to  this  day,  at  a  corner  of  the  adjoining  field. 
This  noise,  like  the  discharge  of  cannon,  was  heard 
throughout  the  country  for  sixteen  miles  round.  During 
these  noises,  which  were  heard  in  both  rooms  together, 
both  the  Commissioners  and  their  servants  gave  one  an- 
other over  for  lost,  and  cried  out  for  help;  and  Giles 
Sharp,  snatching  up  a  sword,  had  well  nigh  killed  one 
of  their  honours,  taking  him  for  the  spirit  as  he  came  in 
his  shirt  into  the  room.  While  they  were  together,  the 
noise  was  continued,  and  part  of  the  tiling  of  the  house, 
and  all  the  windows  of  an  upper  room,  were  taken  away 
with  it. 

'  October  30.  —  Something  walked  into  the  chamber, 
treading  like  a  bear;  it  walked  many  times  about,  then 
threw  the  warming-pan  violently  upon  the  floor,  and 
so  bruised  it  that  it  was  spoiled.  Vast  quantities  of  glass 
were  now  thrown  about  the  room,  and  vast  numbers  of 
great  stones  and  horses'  bones  were  thrown  in;  these 
were  all  found  in  the  morning,  and  the  floors,  beds,  and 


INTRODUCTION 

walls  were  all  much  damaged  by  the  violence  they  were 
thrown  in. 

'  November  i.  —  Candles  were  placed  in  all  parts  of  the 
room,  and  a  great  fire  made.  At  midnight,  the  candles 
all  yet  burning,  a  noise  like  the  burst  of  a  cannon  was 
heard  in  the  room,  and  the  burning  billets  were  tossed 
all  over  the  room  and  about  the  beds;  and  had  not  their 
honours  called  in  Giles  and  his  fellows,  the  house  had 
assuredly  been  burnt.  An  hour  after  the  candles  went 
out,  as  usual,  the  clack  of  many  carmon  was  heard,  and 
many  pailfuls  of  green  stinking  water  were  thrown  on 
their  honours  in  bed ;  great  stones  were  also  thrown  in  as 
before,  the  bed-curtains  and  bedsteads  torn  and  broken; 
the  windows  were  now  all  really  broken,  and  the  whole 
neighbourhood  alarmed  with  the  noises;  nay,  the  very 
rabbit-stealers  that  were  abroad  that  night  in  the  warren 
were  so  frightened  at  the  dismal  thundering,  that  they 
fled  for  fear,  and  left  their  ferrets  behind  them. 

'  One  of  their  honours  this  night  spoke,  and  in  the  name 
of  God  asked  what  it  was,  and  why  it  disturbed  them  so? 
No  answer  was  given  to  this;  but  the  noise  ceased  for  a 
while,  when  the  spirit  came  again,  and  as  they  all 
agreed,  brought  with  it  seven  devils  worse  than  itself. 
One  of  the  servants  now  lighted  a  large  candle,  and  set 
it  in  the  doorway  between  the  two  chambers,  to  see 
what  passed;  and  as  he^  watched  it,  he  plainly  saw  a 
hoof  striking  the  candle  and  candlestick  into  the  middle 
of  the  room,  and  afterwards  making  three  scrapes  over 
the  snuff  of  the  candle,  to  scrape  it  out.  Upon  this,  the 
same  person  was  so  bold  as  to  draw  a  sword;  but  he  had 

*  Probably  this  part  was  also  played  by  Sharp,  who  was  the  regular 
ghost-seer  of  the  parly. 

xvi 


INTRODUCTION 

scarce  got  it  out,  when  he  perceived  another  invisible 
hand  had  hold  of  it  too,  and  pulled  with  him  for  it,  and, 
at  length  prevailing,  struck  him  so  violently  on  the 
head  with  the  pommel,  that  he  fell  down  for  dead  with 
the  blow.  At  this  instant  was  heard  another  burst  like 
the  discharge  of  the  broadside  of  a  ship  of  war,  and  at 
about  a  minute  or  two's  distance  each,  no  less  than 
nineteen  more  such;  these  shook  the  house  so  violently, 
that  they  expected  every  moment  it  would  fall  upon  their 
heads.  The  neighbours  on  this  were  all  alarmed,  and, 
running  to  the  house,  they  all  joined  in  prayer  and 
psalm-singing,  during  which  the  noise  continued  in  the 
other  rooms,  and  the  discharge  of  cannon  without, 
though  nobody  was  there.' 

Dr.  Plot  concludes  his  relation  of  this  memorable 
event  ^  with  observing  that,  though  tricks  have  often 
been  played  in  affairs  of  this  kind,  many  of  these  things 
are  not  reconcilable  with  juggling;  such  as,  ist,  The  loud 
noises  beyond  the  power  of  man  to  make,  without  instru- 
ments which  were  not  there;  2d,  The  tearing  and  break- 
ing of  the  beds;  3d,  The  throwing  about  the  fire;  4th, 
The  hoof  treading  out  the  candle;  and  5th,  The  striving 
for  the  sword,  and  the  blow  the  man  received  from  the 
pommel  of  it. 

To  show  how  great  men  are  sometimes  deceived,  we 
may  recur  to  a  tract  entitled  The  Secret  History  of  the 
Good  Devil  of  Woodstock,  in  which  we  find  it,  under  the 
author's  own  hand,  that  he,  Joseph  Collins,  commonly 
called  Funny  Joe,  was  himself  this  very  devil ;  —  that, 
under  the  feigned  name  of  Giles  Sharp,  he  hired  himself 
as  a  servant  to  the  Commissioners ;  that,  by  the  help  of 

*  In  his  Natural  History  of  Oxfordshire. 
xvii 


INTRODUCTION 

two  friends  —  an  unknown  trap-door  in  the  ceiling  of  the 
bedchamber  and  a  pound  of  common  gunpowder  —  he 
played  all  these  extraordinary  tricks  by  himself;  that 
his  fellow-servants,  whom  he  had  introduced  on  purpose 
to  assist  him,  had  lifted  up  their  own  beds;  and  that  the 
candles  were  contrived,  by  a  common  trick  of  gunpow- 
der, to  be  extinguished  at  a  certain  time. 

The  dog  who  began  the  farce  was,  as  Joe  swore,  no 
dog  at  all,  but  truly  a  bitch,  who  had  shortly  before 
whelped  in  that  room,  and  made  all  this  disturbance 
in  seeking  for  her  puppies;  and  which,  when  she  had 
served  his  purpose,  he  (Joe  Sharp,  or  Collins)  let  out, 
and  then  looked  for.  The  story  of  the  hoof  and  sword  he 
himself  bore  witness  to,  and  was  never  suspected  as  to 
the  truth  of  them,  though  mere  fictions.  By  the  trap- 
door his  friends  let  down  stones,  faggots,  glass,  water, 
etc.,  which  they  either  left  there  or  drew  up  again,  as 
best  suited  his  purpose ;  and  by  this  way  let  themselves 
in  and  out,  without  opening  the  doors,  or  going  through 
the  key-holes;  and  all  the  noises  described,  he  declares 
he  made  by  placing  quantities  of  white  gunpowder  over 
pieces  of  burning  charcoal,  on  plates  of  tin,  which,  as 
they  melted,  exploded  with  a  violent  noise. 

I  am  very  happy  in  having  an  opportunity  of  setting 
history  right  about  these  remarkable  events,  and  would 
not  have  the  reader  disbelieve  my  author's  account  of 
them,  from  his  naming  either  white  gunpowder  explod- 
ing when  melted,  or  his  making  the  earth  about  the  pot 
take  fire  of  its  own  accord;  since,  however  improbable 
these  accounts  may  appear  to  some  readers,  and  what- 
ever secrets  they  might  be  in  Joe's  time,  they  are  now 
well  known  in  chemistry.   As  to  the  last,  there  needs 

xviii 


INTRODUCTION 

only  to  mix  an  equal  quantity  of  iron  filings,  finely  pow- 
dered, and  powder  of  pure  brimstone,  and  make  them 
into  a  paste  with  fair  water.  This  paste,  when  it  hath 
lain  together  about  twenty-six  hours,  wUl  of  itself  take 
fire,  and  burn  all  the  sulphur  away  with  a  blue  flame  and 
a  bad  smell.  For  the  others,  what  he  calls  white  gun- 
powder is  plainly  the  thundering  powder  called  by  our 
chemists  pulvis  fulminans.  It  is  composed  of  three  parts 
of  saltpetre,  two  parts  of  pearl  ashes  or  salt  of  tartar, 
and  one  part  of  flower  of  brimstone,  mixed  together  and 
beat  to  a  fine  powder ;  a  small  quantity  of  this  held  on 
the  point  of  a  knife  over  a  candle  will  not  go  off  till  it 
melt,  and  then  it  gives  a  report  like  that  of  a  pistol;  and 
this  he  might  easily  dispose  of  in  larger  quantities,  so 
as  to  make  it  explode  of  itself,  while  he,  the  said  Joe,  was 
with  his  masters. 

Such  is  the  explanation  of  the  ghostly  adventures  of 
Woodstock,  as  transferred  by  Mr.  Hone  from  the  pages 
of  the  old  tract  termed  the  Authentic  Memoirs  of  the 
Memorable  Joseph  Collins  of  Oxford,  whose  courage  and 
loyalty  were  the  only  wizards  which  conjured  up  those 
strange  and  surprising  apparitions  and  works  of  spirits 
which  passed  as  so  unquestionable  in  the  eyes  of  the 
Parliamentary  Commissioners,  of  Dr.  Plot,  and  other 
authors  of  credit.  The  pulvis  fulminans,  the  secret  prin- 
ciple he  made  use  of,  is  now  known  to  every  apothecary's 
apprentice. 

If  my  memory  be  not  treacherous,  the  actor  of  these 
wonders  made  use  of  his  skill  in  fireworks  upon  the  fol- 
lowing remarkable  occasion.  The  Commissioners  had 
not,  in  their  zeal  for  the  public  service,  overlooked  their 

xix 


INTRODUCTION 

own  private  interests,  and  a  deed  was  drawn  up  upon 
parchment,  recording  the  share  and  nature  of  the  advan- 
tages which  they  privately  agreed  to  concede  to  each 
other;  at  the  same  time  they  were,  it  seems,  loth  to  en- 
trust to  any  one  of  their  number  the  keeping  of  a  docu- 
ment in  which  all  were  equally  concerned.  They  hid  the 
written  agreement  within  a  flower-pot,  in  which  a  shrub 
concealed  it  from  the  eyes  of  any  chance  spectator.  But 
the  rumour  of  the  apparitions  having  gone  abroad, 
curiosity  drew  many  of  the  neighbours  to  Woodstock, 
and  some  in  particular  to  whom  the  knowledge  of  this 
agreement  would  have  afforded  matter  of  scandal.  As 
the  Commissioners  received  these  guests  in  the  saloon 
where  the  flower-pot  was  placed,  a  match  was  suddenly 
set  to  some  fireworks  placed  there  by  Sharp,  the  secre- 
tary. The  flower-pot  burst  to  pieces  with  the  concus- 
sion, or  was  prepared  so  as  to  explode  of  itself,  and  the 
contract  of  the  Commissioners,  bearing  testimony  to 
their  private  roguery,  was  thrown  into  the  midst  of  the 
visitors  assembled.  If  I  have  recollected  this  incident 
accurately,  for  it  is  more  than  forty  years  since  I  perused 
the  tract,  it  is  probable  that,  in  omitting  it  from  the 
novel,  I  may  also  have  passed  over,  from  want  of  mem- 
ory, other  matters  which  might  have  made  an  essential 
addition  to  the  story.  Nothing,  indeed,  is  more  certain 
than  that  incidents  which  are  real  preserve  an  infinite 
advantage  in  works  of  this  nature  over  such  as  are  ficti- 
tious. The  tree,  however,  must  remain  where  it  has 
fallen. 

Having  occasion  to  be  in  London  in  October,  1831,  I 
made  some  researches  in  the  British  Museum,  and  in 
that  rich  collection,  with  the  kind  assistance  of  the 

XX 


INTRODUCTION 

keepers,  who  manage  it  with  so  much  credit  to  them- 
selves and  advantage  to  the  public,  I  recovered  two 
original  pamphlets,  which  contain  a  full  account  of  the 
phenomena  at  Woodstock  in  1649.^  The  first  is  a  satiri- 
cal poem,  published  in  that  year,  which  plainly  shows 
that  the  legend  was  current  among  the  people  in  the  very 
shape  in  which  it  was  afterwards  made  public.  I  have 
not  found  the  explanation  of  Joe  Collins,  which,  as  men- 
tioned by  Mr.  Hone,  resolves  the  whole  into  confeder- 
acy. It  might,  however,  be  recovered  by  a  stricter 
search  than  I  had  leisure  for.  ^  In  the  mean  time,  it  may 
be  observed,  that  neither  the  name  of  Joe  Collins  nor 
Sharp  occurs  among  the  dramatis  persona  given  in  these 
tracts  published  when  he  might  have  been  endangered 
by  anything  which  directed  suspicion  towards  him,  at 
least  in  1649,  ^-nd  perhaps  might  have  exposed  him  to 
danger  even  in  1660,  from  the  malice  of  a  powerful 
though  defeated  faction. 

xst  August,  1832. 

*  See  Appendix. 


PREFACE 

It  is  not  my  purpose  to  inform  my  readers  how  the 
manuscripts  of  that  eminent  antiquary,  the  Rev.  J.  A. 
Rocheclifife,  D.D.,  came  into  my  possession.  There  are 
many  ways  in  which  such  things  happen,  and  it  is  enough 
to  say  they  were  rescued  from  an  unworthy  fate,  and 
that  they  were  honestly  come  by.  As  for  the  authentic- 
ity of  the  anecdotes  which  I  have  gleaned  from  the  writ- 
ings of  this  excellent  person,  and  put  together  with  my 
own  unrivalled  facility,  the  name  of  Dr.  Rochecliffe  will 
warrant  accuracy,  wherever  that  name  happens  to  be 
known. 

With  his  history  the  reading  part  of  the  world  are 
well  acquainted;  and  we  might  refer  the  tyro  to  honest 
Anthony  a  Wood,  who  looked  up  to  him  as  one  of  the 
pillars  of  High  Church,  and  bestows  on  him  an  exemplary 
character  in  the  Athen<z  Oxonienses,  although  the  Doc- 
tor was  educated  at  Cambridge,  England's  other  eye. 

It  is  well  known  that  Dr.  Rochecliffe  early  obtained 
preferment  in  the  church,  on  account  of  the  spirited  share 
which  he  took  in  the  controversy  with  the  Puritans;  and 
that  his  work,  entitled  Malleus  HcBresis,  was  considered 
as  a  knockdown  blow  by  all  except  those  who  received  it. 
It  was  that  work  which  made  him,  at  the  early  age  of 
thirty,  rector  of  Woodstock,  and  which  afterwards  se- 
cured him  a  place  in  the  catalogue  of  the  celebrated 
Century  White;  and,  worse  than  being  shown  up  by  that 
fanatic,  among  the  catalogues  of  scandalous  and  malig- 
nant priests  admitted  into  benefices  by  the  prelates,  his 

xxii 


PREFACE 

opinions  occasioned  the  loss  of  his  living  of  Woodstock 
by  the  ascendency  of  presbytery.  He  was  chaplain, 
during  most  part  of  the  Civil  War,  to  Sir  Henry  Lee's 
regiment,  levied  for  the  service  of  King  Charles;  and  it 
was  said  he  engaged  more  than  once  personally  in  the 
field.  At  least  it  is  certain  that  Dr.  RochecUffe  was  re- 
peatedly in  great  danger,  as  will  appear  from  more  pass- 
ages than  one  in  the  following  history,  which  speaks  of 
his  own  exploits,  like  Caesar,  in  the  third  person.  I  sus- 
pect, however,  some  Presbyterian  commentator  has 
been  guilty  of  interpolating  two  or  three  passages.  The 
manuscript  was  long  in  possession  of  the  Everards,  a 
distinguished  family  of  that  persuasion.^ 

During  the  usurpation  Dr.  Rochecliffe  was  con- 
stantly engaged  in  one  or  other  of  the  premature  at- 
tempts at  a  restoration  of  monarchy ;  and  was  accounted, 
for  his  audacity,  presence  of  mind,  and  depth  of  judg- 
ment, one  of  the  greatest  undertakers  for  the  King  in 
that  busy  time,  with  this  trifling  drawback,  that  the 
plots  in  which  he  busied  himself  were  almost  constantly 
detected.  Nay,  it  was  suspected  that  Cromwell  himself 
sometimes  contrived  to  suggest  to  him  the  intrigues  in 
which  he  engaged,  by  which  means  the  wily  Protector 
made  experiments  on  the  fidelity  of  doubtful  friends, 
and  became  well  acquainted  with  the  plots  of  declared 
enemies,  which  he  thought  it  more  easy  to  disconcert 
and  disappoint  than  to  punish  severely. 

Upon  the  Restoration,  Dr.  Rochecliffe  regained  his 
living  of  Woodstock,  with  other  church  preferment,  and 
gave  up  polemics  and  political  intrigues  for  philosophy. 

^  It  IS  hardly  necessary  to  say,  unless  to  some  readers  of  very  literal 
capacity,  that  Dr.  Rochecliffe  and  his  manuscripts  are  alike  apocr>-phal. 

xxiii 


PREFACE 

He  was  one  of  the  constituent  members  of  the  Royal 
Society,  and  was  the  person  through  whom  Charles  re- 
quired of  that  learned  body  solution  of  their  curious 
problem,  'Why,  if  a  vessel  is  filled  brimful  of  water,  and 
a  large  live  fish  plunged  into  the  water,  nevertheless  it 
shall  not  overflow  the  pitcher? '  Dr.  Rochecliffe's  expo- 
sition of  this  phenomenon  was  the  most  ingenious  and 
instructive  of  four  that  were  given  in;  and  it  is  certain 
the  Doctor  must  have  gained  the  honour  of  the  day, 
but  for  the  obstinacy  of  a  plain,  dull,  country  gentle- 
man, who  insisted  that  the  experiment  should  be,  in  the 
first  place,  publicly  tried.  When  this  was  done,  the  event 
showed  it  would  have  been  rather  rash  to  have  adopted 
the  facts  exclusively  on  the  royal  authority;  as  the  fish, 
however  curiously  inserted  into  his  native  element, 
splashed  the  water  over  the  hall,  and  destroyed  the 
credit  of  four  ingenious  essayists,  besides  a  large  Turkey 
carpet. 

Dr.  Rochecliffe,  it  would  seem,  died  about  1685, 
leaving  many  papers  behind  him  of  various  kinds,  and, 
above  all,  many  valuable  anecdotes  of  secret  history, 
from  which  the  following  Memoirs  have  been  extracted, 
on  which  we  intend  to  say  only  a  few  words  by  way  of 
illustration. 

The  existence  of  Rosamond's  Labyrinth,  mentioned 
in  these  pages,  is  attested  by  Drayton  in  the  reign  of 
Queen  Elizabeth:  — 

'Rosamond's  Labyrinth,  whose  ruins,  together  with 
her  Well,  being  paved  with  square  stones  in  the  bottom, 
and  also  her  Tower,  from  which  the  Labyrinth  did  run, 
are  yet  remaining,  being  vaults  arched  and  walled  with 
stone  and  brick,  almost  inextricably  wound  within  one 

xxiv 


PREFACE 

another,  by  which,  if  at  any  time  her  lodging  were  laid 
about  by  the  Queen,  she  might  easily  avoid  peril  immi- 
nent, and,  if  need  be,  by  secret  issues  take  the  air  abroad, 
many  furlongs  about  Woodstock  in  Oxfordshire.'  ^ 

It  is  highly  probable  that  a  singular  piece  of  phantas- 
magoria, which  was  certainly  played  off  upon  the  Com- 
missioners of  the  Long  Parliament,  who  were  sent  down 
to  dispark  and  destroy  Woodstock  after  the  death  of 
Charles  I.,  was  conducted  by  means  of  the  secret  pas- 
sages and  recesses  in  the  ancient  Labyrinth  of  Rosa- 
mond, round  which  successive  monarchs  had  erected  a 
hunting-seat  or  lodge. 

There  is  a  curious  account  of  the  disturbance  given  to 
those  Honourable  Commissioners,  inserted  by  Dr.  Plot 
in  his  Natural  History  of  Oxfordshire.  But,  as  I  have  not 
the  book  at  hand,  I  can  only  allude  to  the  work  of  the 
celebrated  Glanville,  Upon  Witches,  who  has  extracted 
it  as  an  highly-accredited  narrative  of  supernatural 
dealings.  The  beds  of  the  Commissioners  and  their  serv- 
ants were  hoisted  up  till  they  were  almost  inverted, 
and  then  let  down  again  so  suddenly  as  to  menace  them 
with  broken  bones.  Unusual  and  horrible  noises  dis- 
turbed those  sacrilegious  intromitters  with  royal  prop- 
erty. The  devil,  on  one  occasion,  brought  them  a  warm- 
ing-pan; on  another,  pelted  them  with  stones  and 
horses'  bones.  Tubs  of  water  were  emptied  on  them  in 
their  sleep ;  and  so  many  other  pranks  of  the  same  nature 
played  at  their  expense,  that  they  broke  up  housekeeping, 
and  left  their  intended  spoliation  only  half  completed. 
The  good  sense  of  Dr.  Plot  suspected  that  these  feats 

^  Drayton's  England's  Heroical  Epistles,  Note  A  on  the  Epistle, 
'Rosamond  to  King  Henry.' 

XXV 


PREFACE 

were  wrought  by  conspiracy  and  confederation,  which 
Glanville  of  course  endeavours  to  refute  with  all  his 
might;  for  it  could  scarce  be  expected  that  he,  who  be- 
lieved in  so  convenient  a  solution  as  that  of  supernatural 
agency,  would  consent  to  relinquish  the  service  of  a  key 
which  will  answer  any  lock,  however  intricate. 

Nevertheless,  it  was  afterwards  discovered  that  Dr. 
Plot  was  perfectly  right;  and  that  the  only  demon  who 
wrought  all  these  marvels  was  a  disguised  Royalist  —  a 
fellow  called  Trusty  Joe,  or  some  such  name,  formerly  in 
the  service  of  the  keeper  of  the  park,  but  who  engaged 
in  that  of  the  Commissioners  on  purpose  to  subject  them 
to  his  persecution.  I  think  I  have  seen  some  account  of 
the  real  state  of  the  transaction,  and  of  the  machinery 
by  which  the  wizard  worked  his  wonders;  but  whether 
in  a  book  or  a  pamphlet,  I  am  uncertain,  I  remember  one 
passage  particularly,  to  this  purpose.  The  Commission- 
ers having  agreed  to  retain  some  articles  out  of  the  public 
account,  in  order  to  be  divided  among  themselves,  had 
entered  into  an  indenture  for  ascertaining  their  share  in 
the  peculation,  which  they  hid  in  a  bow-pot  for  security. 
Now,  when  an  assembly  of  divines,  aided  by  the  most 
strict  religious  characters  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Wood- 
stock, were  assembled  to  conjure  down  the  supposed 
demon.  Trusty  Joe  had  contrived  a  firework,  which  he 
let  off  in  the  midst  of  the  exorcism,  and  which  destroyed 
the  bow-pot;  and,  to  the  shame  and  confusion  of  the 
Commissioners,  threw  their  secret  indenture  into  the 
midst  of  the  assembled  ghost-seers,  who  became  thus 
acquainted  with  their  secret  schemes  of  peculation. 

It  is,  however,  to  Uttle  purpose  for  me  to  strain  my 
memory  about  ancient  and  imperfect  recollections  con- 

xxvi 


PREFACE 

ceming  the  particulars  of  these  fantastic  disturbances 
at  Woodstock,  since  Dr.  Rochecliffe's  papers  give  such  a 
much  more  accurate  narrative  than  could  be  obtained 
from  any  account  in  existence  before  their  publication. 
Indeed,  I  might  have  gone  much  more  fully  into  this 
part  of  my  subject,  for  the  materials  are  ample;  but,  to 
tell  the  reader  a  secret,  some  friendly  critics  were  of 
opinion  they  made  the  story  hang  on  hand;  and  thus  I 
was  prevailed  on  to  be  more  concise  on  the  subject  than 
I  might  otherwise  have  been. 

The  impatient  reader,  perhaps,  is  by  this  time  accus- 
ing me  of  keeping  the  sun  from  him  with  a  candle.  Were 
the  sunshine  as  bright,  however,  as  it  is  likely  to  prove; 
and  the  flambeau,  or  Unk,  a  dozen  of  times  as  smoky,  my 
friend  must  remain  in  the  inferior  atmosphere  a  minute 
longer,  while  I  disclaim  the  idea  of  poaching  on  another's 
manor.  Hawks,  we  say  in  Scotland,  ought  not  to  pick 
out  hawks'  eyes,  or  tire  upon  each  other's  quarry;  and, 
therefore,  if  I  had  known  that,  in  its  date  and  its  char- 
acters, this  tale  was  likely  to  interfere  with  that  recently 
published  by  a  distinguished  contemporary,  I  should 
unquestionably  have  left  Dr.  Rochecliffe's  manuscript 
in  peace  for  the  present  season.  But  before  I  was  aware 
of  this  circumstance,  this  Httle  book  was  half  through  the 
press;  and  I  had  only  the  alternative  of  avoiding  any 
intentional  imitation,  by  delaying  a  perusal  of  the  con- 
temporary work  in  question.  Some  accidental  collision 
there  must  be,  when  works  of  a  similar  character  are 
finished  on  the  same  general  system  of  historical  manners, 
and  the  same  historical  personages  are  introduced.  Of 
course,  if  such  have  occurred,  I  shall  be  probably  the 
sufferer.  But  my  intentions  have  been  at  least  innocent, 

xrv'ii 


PREFACE 

since  I  look  on  it  as  one  of  the  advantages  attending  the 
conclusion  of  Woodstock,  that  the  finishing  of  my  own 
task  will  permit  me  to  have  the  pleasure  of  reading 
Bramhletye  House,  from  which  I  have  hitherto  conscien- 
tiously abstained. 


WOODSTOCK 


CHAPTER  I 


Some  were  for  gospel  ministers, 
And  some  for  redcoat  seculars. 
As  men  most  fit  t'  hold  forth  the  word, 
And  wield  the  one  and  th'  other  sword. 

Butler's  Hudibras. 


There  is  a  handsome  parish  church  in  the  town  of 
Woodstock  —  I  am  told  so,  at  least,  for  I  never  saw  it, 
having  scarce  time,  when  at  the  place,  to  view  the  magnif- 
icence of  Blenheim,  its  painted  halls  and  tapestried  bow- 
ers, and  then  return  in  due  season  to  dine  in  hall  with  my 
learned  friend,  the  provost  of ,  being  one  of  those  oc- 
casions on  which  a  man  wrongs  himself  extremely  if  he 
lets  his  curiosity  interfere  with  his  punctuality.  I  had 
the  church  accurately  described  to  me,  with  a  view  to 
this  work;  but,  as  I  have  some  reason  to  doubt  whether 
my  informant  had  ever  seen  the  inside  of  it  himself,  I 
shall  be  content  to  say  that  it  is  now  a  handsome  edifice, 
most  part  of  which  was  rebuilt  forty  or  fifty  years  since, 
although  it  still  contains  some  arches  of  the  old  chantry, 
founded,  it  is  said,  by  King  John.  It  is  to  this  more  an- 
cient part  of  the  building  that  my  story  refers. 

On  a  morning  in  the  end  of  September  or  beginning  of 
October,  in  the  year  1652,  being  a  day  appointed  for  a 
solemn  thanksgiving  for  the  decisive  victory  at  Wor- 
cester, a  respectable  audience  was  assembled  in  the  old 
chantry,  or  chapel,  of  King  John.  The  condition  of  the 

37  1 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

church  and  character  of  the  audience  both  bore  witness 
to  the  rage  of  civil  war  and  the  peculiar  spirit  of  the 
times.  The  sacred  edifice  showed  many  marks  of  dilapi- 
dation. The  windows,  once  filled  with  stained  glass,  had 
been  dashed  to  pieces  with  pikes  and  muskets,  as  mat- 
ters of  and  pertaining  to  idolatry.  The  carving  on  the 
reading-desk  was  damaged,  and  two  fair  screens  of  beau- 
tiful sculptured  oak  had  been  destroyed,  for  the  same 
pithy  and  conclusive  reason.  The  high  altar  had  been 
removed,  and  the  gilded  railing  which  was  once  around 
it  was  broken  down  and  carried  off.  The  ef&gies  of  sev- 
eral tombs  were  mutilated,  and  now  lay  scattered  about 
the  church, 

Torn  from  their  destined  niche,  —  unworthy  meed 
Of  knightly  counsel  or  heroic  deed! 

The  autumn  wind  piped  through  empty  aisles,  in 
which  the  remains  of  stakes  and  trevisses  of  rough-hewn 
timber,  as  well  as  a  quantity  of  scattered  hay  and  tram- 
pled straw,  seemed  to  intimate  that  the  hallowed  pre- 
cincts had  been,  upon  some  late  emergency,  made  the 
quarters  of  a  troop  of  horse. 

The  audience,  like  the  building,  was  abated  in  splen- 
dour. None  of  the  ancient  and  habitual  worshippers  dur- 
ing peaceful  times  were  now  to  be  seen  in  their  carved 
galleries,  with  hands  shadowing  their  brows,  while  com- 
posing their  minds  to  pray  where  their  fathers  had 
prayed,  and  after  the  same  mode  of  worship.  The  eye  of 
the  yeoman  and  peasant  sought  in  vain  the  tall  form  of 
old  Sir  Henry  Lee  of  Ditchley,  as,  wrapped  in  his  laced 
cloak,  and  with  beard  and  whiskers  duly  composed,  he 
moved  slowly  through  the  aisles,  followed  by  the  faith- 


WOODSTOCK 

ful  mastiff,  or  bloodhound,  which  in  old  time  had  saved 
his  master  by  his  fidelity,  and  which  regularly  followed 
him  to  church.  Bevis  indeed,  fell  under  the  proverb 
which  avers,  'He  is  a  good  dog  which  goes  to  church'; 
for,  bating  an  occasional  temptation  to  warble  along 
with  the  accord,  he  behaved  himself  as  decorously  as  any 
of  the  congregation,  and  returned  as  much  edified,  per- 
haps, as  most  of  them.  The  damsels  of  Woodstock 
looked  as  vainly  for  the  laced  cloaks,  jingling  spurs, 
slashed  boots  and  tall  plumes  of  the  young  cavaHers  of 
this  and  other  high-born  houses,  moving  through  the 
streets  and  the  churchyard  with  the  careless  ease  which 
indicates  perhaps  rather  an  overweening  degree  of  self- 
confidence,  yet  shows  graceful  when  mingled  with  good- 
humour  and  courtesy.  The  good  old  dames,  too,  in  their 
white  hoods  and  black  velvet  gowns,  their  daughters, 
'  the  cynosure  of  neighbouring  eyes,'  —  where  were  they 
all  now,  who,  when  they  entered  the  church,  used  to 
divide  men's  thoughts  between  them  and  Heaven?  *  But, 
ah !  AHce  Lee  —  so  sweet,  so  gentle,  so  condescending  in 
thy  loveliness,  —  [thus  proceeds  a  contemporary  annaHst, 
whose  manuscript  we  have  deciphered] — why  is  my  story 
to  turn  upon  thy  fallen  fortunes  ?  and  why  not  rather  to 
the  period  when,  in  the  very  dismounting  from  your 
palfrey,  you  attracted  as  many  eyes  as  if  an  angel  had 
descended,  as  many  blessings  as  if  the  benignant  being 
had  come  fraught  with  good  tidings?  No  creature  wert 
thou  of  an  idle  romancer's  imagination,  no  being  fantas- 
tically bedizened  with  inconsistent  perfections:  thy  mer- 
its made  me  love  thee  well,  and  for  thy  faults  —  so  well 
did  they  show  amid  thy  good  qualities,  that  I  think  they 
made  me  love  thee  better.' 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

With  the  house  of  Lee  had  disappeared  from  the 
chantry  of  King  John  others  of  gentle  blood  and  hon- 
oured lineage  —  Freemantles,  Winklecombes,  Drycotts, 
etc.;  for  the  air  that  blew  over  the  towers  of  Oxford  was 
unfavourable  to  the  growth  of  Puritanism,  which  was 
more  general  in  the  neighbouring  counties.  There  were 
among  the  congregation,  however,  one  or  two  that,  by 
their  habits  and  demeanour,  seemed  country  gentlemen 
of  consideration,  and  there  were  also  present  some  of  the 
notables  of  the  town  of  Woodstock,  cutlers  or  glovers 
chiefly,  whose  skill  in  steel  or  leather  had  raised  them  to 
a  comfortable  livelihood.  These  dignitaries  wore  long 
black  cloaks,  plaited  close  at  the  neck,  and,  like  peace- 
ful citizens,  carried  their  Bibles  and  memorandum-books 
at  their  girdles,  instead  of  knife  or  sword.  ^  This  respect- 
able, but  least  numerous,  part  of  the  audience  were  such 
decent  persons  as  had  adopted  the  Presbyterian  form  of 
faith,  renouncing  the  hturgy  and  hierarchy  of  the  Church 
of  England,  and  Hving  under  the  tuition  of  the  Rev. 
Nehemiah  Holdenough,  much  famed  for  the  length  and 
strength  of  his  powers  of  predication.  With  these  grave 
seniors  sate  their  goodly  dames  in  ruff  and  gorget,  like 
the  portraits  which  in  catalogues  of  paintings  are  de- 
signed 'wife  of  a  burgomaster';  and  their  pretty  daugh- 
ters, whose  study,  like  that  of  Chaucer's  physician,  was 
not  always  in  the  Bible,  but  who  were,  on  the  contrary, 
when  a  glance  could  escape  the  vigilance  of  their  hon- 
oured mothers,  inattentive  themselves  and  the  cause  of 
inattention  in  others. 

But,  besides  these  dignified  persons,  there  were  in  the 

'  This  custom  among  the  Puritans  is  mentioned  often  in  old  plays, 
and  among  others  in  the  Widow  of  Wailing  Street. 


WOODSTOCK 

church  a  numerous  collection  of  the  lower  orders,  some 
brought  thither  by  curiosity,  but  many  of  them  un- 
washed artificers,  bewildered  in  the  theological  discus- 
sions of  the  time,  and  of  as  many  various  sects  as  there 
are  colours  in  the  rainbow.  The  presumption  of  these 
learned  Thebans  being  in  exact  proportion  to  their  ig- 
norance, the  last  was  total  and  the  first  boundless.  Their 
behaviour  in  the  church  was  anything  but  reverential  or 
edifying.  Most  of  them  affected  a  cynical  contempt  for 
all  that  was  only  held  sacred  by  human  sanction:  the 
church  was  to  these  men  but  a  steeple-house,  the  clergy- 
man an  ordinary  person,  her  ordinances  dry  bran  and 
sapless  pottage,^  unfitted  for  the  spirituahsed  palates  of 
the  saints,  and  the  prayer  an  address  to  Heaven,  to  which 
each  acceded  or  not,  as  in  his  too  critical  judgment  he 
conceived  fit. 

The  elder  amongst  them  sate  or  lay  on  the  benches, 
with  their  high  steeple-crowned  hats  pulled  over  their 
severe  and  knitted  brows,  waiting  for  the  Presbyterian 
parson,  as  mastiffs  sit  in  dumb  expectation  of  the  bull 
that  is  to  be  brought  to  the  stake.  The  younger  mixed, 
some  of  them,  a  bolder  Hcense  of  manners  with  their  her- 
esies: they  gazed  round  on  the  women,  yawned,  coughed 
and  whispered,  eat  apples,  and  cracked  nuts,  as  if  in  the 
gallery  of  a  theatre  ere  the  piece  commences. 

Besides  all  these,  the  congregation  contained  a  few 
soldiers,  some  in  corslets  and  steel  caps,  some  in  buff, 
and  others  in  red  coats.  These  men  of  war  had  their 
bandoleers,  with  ammunition,  slung  round  them,  and 
rested  on  their  pikes  and  muskets.  They,  too,  had  their 

*  See  a  curious  vindication  of  this  indecent  simile  here  for  the  Com- 
mon Prayer,  in  Note  i,  at  end. 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

peculiar  doctrines  on  the  most  difficult  points  of  religion, 
and  united  the  extravagances  of  enthusiasm  with  the 
most  determined  courage  and  resolution  in  the  field.  The 
burghers  of  Woodstock  looked  on  these  miUtary  saints 
with  no  small  degree  of  awe;  for  though  not  often  sullied 
with  deeds  of  plunder  or  cruelty,  they  had  the  power  of 
both  absolutely  in  their  hands,  and  the  peaceful  citizen 
had  no  alternative,  save  submission  to  whatever  the  ill- 
regulated  and  enthusiastic  imaginations  of  their  martial 
guides  might  suggest. 

After  some  time  spent  in  waiting  for  him,  Mr.  Hold- 
enough  began  to  walk  up  the  aisles  of  the  chapel,  not 
with  the  slow  and  dignified  carriage  with  which  the  old 
rector  was  of  yore  wont  to  maintain  the  dignity  of  the 
surplice,  but  with  a  hasty  step,  like  one  who  arrives  too 
late  at  an  appointment,  and  bustles  forward  to  make  the 
best  use  of  his  time.  He  was  a  tall  thin  man,  with  an 
adust  complexion,  and  the  vivacity  of  his  eye  indicated 
some  irascibility  of  temperament.  His  dress  was  brown, 
not  black,  and  over  his  other  vestments  he  wore,  in  hon- 
our of  Calvin,  a  Geneva  cloak  of  a  blue  colour,  which  fell 
backwards  from  his  shoulders  as  he  posted  on  to  the  pul- 
pit. His  grizzled  hair  was  cut  as  short  as  shears  could 
perform  the  feat,  and  covered  with  a  black  silk  skullcap, 
which  stuck  so  close  to  his  head,  that  the  two  ears  ex- 
panded from  under  it  as  if  they  had  been  intended  as 
handles  by  which  to  Hft  the  whole  person.  Moreover, 
the  worthy  divine  wore  spectacles,  and  a  long  grizzled 
peaked  beard,  and  he  carried  in  his  hand  a  small  pocket 
Bible  with  silver  clasps.  Upon  arriving  at  the  pulpit, 
he  paused  a  moment  to  take  breath,  then  began  to 
ascend  the  steps  by  two  at  a  time. 

6 


WOODSTOCK 

But  his  course  was  arrested  by  a  strong  hand,  which 
seized  his  cloak.  It  was  that  of  one  who  had  detached 
himself  from  the  group  of  soldiery.  He  was  a  stout  man 
of  middle  stature,  with  a  quick  eye,  and  a  countenance 
which,  though  plain,  had  yet  an  expression  that  fixed 
the  attention.  His  dress,  though  not  strictly  military, 
partook  of  that  character.  He  wore  large  hose  made  of 
calves'-leather,  and  a  tuck,  as  it  was  then  called,  or  rapier, 
of  tremendous  length,  balanced  on  the  other  side  by  a 
dagger.  The  belt  was  morocco,  garnished  with  pistols. 

The  minister,  thus  intercepted  in  his  duty,  faced  round 
upon  the  party  who  had  seized  him,  and  demanded,  in 
no  gentle  tone,  the  meaning  of  the  interruption. 

'  Friend,'  quoth  the  intruder, '  is  it  thy  purpose  to  hold 
forth  to  these  good  people? ' 

*Ay,  marry  is  it,'  said  the  clergyman,  'and  such  is  my 
bounden  duty.  Woe  to  me  if  I  preach  not  the  Gospel. 
Prithee,  friend,  let  me  not  in  my  labour  — ' 

*Nay,'  said  the  man  of  warlike  mien,  *I  am  myself 
minded  to  hold  forth ;  therefore,  do  thou  desist,  or  if  thou 
wilt  do  by  mine  advice,  remain  and  fructify  with  those 
poor  goslings,  to  whom  I  am  presently  about  to  shake 
forth  the  crumbs  of  comfortable  doctrine.' 

*  Give  place,  thou  man  of  Satan,'  said  the  priest,  wax- 
ing wroth;  'respect  mine  order  —  my  cloth.' 

'  I  see  no  more  to  respect  in  the  cut  of  thy  cloak,  or  in 
the  cloth  of  which  it  is  fashioned,'  said  the  other,  'than 
thou  didst  in  the  bishop's  rochets:  they  were  black  and 
white,  thou  art  blue  and  brown.  Sleeping  dogs  every 
one  of  you,  l3ang  down,  loving  to  slumber  —  shepherds 
that  starve  the  flock,  but  will  not  watch  it,  each  looking 
to  his  own  gain  —  hum.' 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Scenes  of  this  indecent  kind  were  so  common  at  the 
time,  that  no  one  thought  of  interfering:  the  congrega- 
tion looked  on  in  silence,  the  better  class  scandalised, 
and  the  lower  orders,  some  laughing,  and  others  backing 
the  soldier  or  minister  as  their  fancy  dictated.  Mean- 
time the  struggle  waxed  fiercer;  Mr.  Holdenough  clam- 
oured for  assistance. 

'Master  Mayor  of  Woodstock,'  he  exclaimed,  'wilt 
thou  be  among  those  wicked  magistrates  who  bear  the 
sword  in  vain?  Citizens,  will  you  not  help  your  pastor? 
Worthy  aldermen,  will  you  see  me  strangled  on  the  pul- 
pit stairs  by  this  man  of  bufif  and  BeHal?  But  lo,  I  will 
overcome  him,  and  cast  his  cords  from  me.' 

As  Holdenough  spoke,  he  struggled  to  ascend  the  pul- 
pit stairs,  holding  hard  on  the  banisters.  His  tormentor 
held  fast  by  the  skirts  of  the  cloak,  which  went  nigh 
to  the  choking  of  the  wearer,  until,  as  he  spoke  the 
words  last  mentioned,  in  a  half-strangled  voice,  Mr. 
Holdenough  dexterously  slipped  the  string  which  tied  it 
round  his  neck,  so  that  the  garment  suddenly  gave  way; 
the  soldier  fell  backwards  down  the  steps,  and  the  liber- 
ated divine  skipped  into  the  pulpit,  and  began  to  give 
forth  a  psalm  of  triumph  over  his  prostrate  adversary. 
But  a  great  hubbub  in  the  church  marred  his  exultation, 
and  although  he  and  his  faithful  clerk  continued  to  sing 
the  hymn  of  victory,  their  notes  were  only  heard  by  fits, 
like  the  whistle  of  a  curlew  during  a  gale  of  wind. 

The  cause  of  the  tumult  was  as  follows:  —  The  Mayor 
was  a  zealous  Presbyterian,  and  witnessed  the  intrusion 
of  the  soldier  with  great  indignation  from  the  very  be- 
ginning, though  he  hesitated  to  interfere  with  an  armed 
man  while  on  his  legs  and  capable  of  resistance.  But  no 

8 


WOODSTOCK 

sooner  did  he  behold  the  champion  of  Independency 
sprawling  on  his  back,  with  the  divine's  Geneva  cloak 
fluttering  in  his  hands,  than  the  magistrate  rushed  for- 
ward, exclaiming  that  such  insolence  was  not  to  be  en- 
dured, and  ordered  his  constables  to  seize  the  prostrate 
champion,  proclaiming,  in  the  magnanimity  of  wrath, 
'I  will  commit  every  redcoat  of  them  all  —  I  will  com- 
mit him  were  he  Noll  Cromwell  himself!' 

The  worthy  Mayor's  indignation  had  overmastered 
his  reason  when  he  made  this  mistimed  vaunt;  for  three 
soldiers,  who  had  hitherto  stood  motionless  like  statues, 
made  each  a  stride  in  advance,  which  placed  them  be- 
twixt the  municipal  officers  and  the  soldier,  who  was  in 
the  act  of  rising;  then  making  at  once  the  movement  of 
resting  arms  according  to  the  manual  as  then  practised, 
their  musket-butts  rang  on  the  church  pavement  within 
an  inch  of  the  gouty  toes  of  Master  Mayor.  The  ener- 
getic magistrate,  whose  efforts  in  favour  of  order  were 
thus  checked,  cast  one  glance  on  his  supporters,  but  that 
was  enough  to  show  him  that  force  was  not  on  his  side. 
All  had  shrunk  back  on  hearing  that  ominous  clatter  of 
stone  and  iron.  He  was  obliged  to  descend  to  expostu- 
lation. 

'What  do  you  mean,  my  masters?'  he  said;  'is  it  like  a 
decent  and  God-fearing  soldiery,  who  have  wrought  such 
things  for  the  land  as  have  never  before  been  heard  of, 
to  brawl  and  riot  in  the  church,  or  to  aid,  abet,  and  com- 
fort a  profane  fellow,  who  hath,  upon  a  solemn  thanks- 
giving, excluded  the  minister  from  his  own  pulpit? ' 

'We  have  nought  to  do  with  thy  church,  as  thou  call'st 
it,'  said  he  who,  by  a  small  feather  in  front  of  his  morion, 
appeared  to  be  the  corporal  of  the  party;  'we  see  not 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

why  men  of  gifts  should  not  be  heard  within  these  cita- 
dels of  superstition,  as  well  as  the  voice  of  the  men  of 
crape  of  old  and  the  men  of  cloak  now.  Wherefore,  we 
wall  pluck  yon  Jack  Presbyter  out  of  his  wooden  sentinel- 
box,  and  our  own  watchman  shall  reHeve  the  guard,  and 
mount  thereon,  and  cry  aloud  and  spare  not.' 

'Nay,  gentlemen,'  said  the  Mayor,  'if  such  be  your 
purpose,  we  have  not  the  means  to  withstand  you,  being, 
as  you  see,  peaceful  and  quiet  men.  But  let  me  first 
speak  with  this  worthy  minister,  NehemiahHoldenough, 
to  persuade  him  to  yield  up  his  place  for  the  time  with- 
out further  scandal.' 

The  peacemaking  Mayor  then  interrupted  the  qua- 
vering of  Holdenough  and  the  clerk,  and  prayed  both 
to  retire,  else  there  would,  he  said,  be  certainly  strife. 

'Strife!'  replied  the  Presbyterian  divine,  with  scorn; 
'  no  fear  of  strife  among  men  that  dare  not  testify  against 
this  open  profanation  of  the  church  and  daring  display 
of  heresy.  Would  your  neighbours  of  Banbury  have 
brooked  such  an  insult? ' 

'  Come  —  come,  Master  Holdenough,'  said  the  Mayor, 
'put  us  not  to  mutiny  and  cry  clubs.  I  tell  you  once 
more,  we  are  not  men  of  war  or  blood.' 

'Not  more  than  may  be  drawn  by  the  point  of  a 
needle,'  said  the  preacher,  scornfully.  'Ye  tailors  of 
Woodstock  —  for  what  is  a  glover  but  a  tailor  working 
on  kid-skin?  —  I  forsake  you,  in  scorn  of  your  faint 
hearts  and  feeble  hands,  and  will  seek  me  elsewhere 
a  flock  which  will  not  fly  from  their  shepherd  at  the 
braying  of  the  first  wild  ass  which  cometh  from  out  the 
great  desert.' 
.    So  saying,  the  aggrieved  divine  departed  from  his 

10 


WOODSTOCK 

pulpit,  and  shaking  the  dust  from  his  shoes,  left  the 
church  as  hastily  as  he  had  entered  it,  though  with  a  dif- 
ferent reason  for  his  speed.  The  citizens  saw  his  retreat 
with  sorrow,  and  not  without  a  compunctious  feehng, 
as  if  conscious  that  they  were  not  playing  the  most  cour- 
ageous part  in  the  world.  The  Mayor  himself  and  sev- 
eral others  left  the  church,  to  follow  and  appease  him. 
The  Independent  orator,  late  prostrate,  was  now  tri- 
umphant, and  inducting  himself  into  the  pulpit  without 
further  ceremony,  he  pulled  a  Bible  from  his  pocket, 
and  selected  his  text  from  the  forty-fifth  Psalm  —  '  Gird 
thy  sword  upon  thy  thigh,  O  most  mighty,  with  thy 
glory  and  thy  majesty:  and  in  thy  majesty  ride  pros- 
perously.' Upon  this  theme  he  commenced  one  of  those 
wild  declamations  common  at  the  period,  in  which  men 
were  accustomed  to  wrest  and  pervert  the  language  of 
Scripture,  by  adapting  it  to  modern  events.^  The  lan- 
guage, which,  in  its  Hteral  sense,  was  applied  to  Kjing 
David,  and  typically  referred  to  the  coming  of  the  Mes- 
siah, was,  in  the  opinion  of  the  military  orator,  most 
properly  to  be  interpreted  of  Oliver  Cromwell,  the  vic- 
torious general  of  the  infant  Commonwealth,  which  was 
never  destined  to  come  of  age,  'Gird  on  thy  sword!' 
exclaimed  the  preacher,  emphatically;  'and  was  not 
that  a  pretty  bit  of  steel  as  ever  dangled  from  a  corslet, 
or  rung  against  a  steel  saddle?  Ay,  ye  prick  up  your  ears 
now,  ye  cutlers  of  Woodstock,  as  if  ye  should  know  some- 
thing of  a  good  fox  broadsword.  Did  you  forge  it,  I  trow? 
Was  the  steel  quenched  with  water  from  Rosamond's 
Well,  or  the  blade  blessed  by  the  old  cuckoldy  priest  of 
Godstow?  You  would  have  us  think,  I  warrant  me,  that 
^  See  Note  i. 
II 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

you  wrought  it  and  welded  it,  grinded  and  polished  it, 
and  all  the  while  it  never  came  on  a  Woodstock  stithy! 
You  were  all  too  busy  making  whittles  for  the  lazy  crape- 
men  of  Oxford  —  bouncing  priests,  whose  eyes  were  so 
closed  up  with  fat,  that  they  could  not  see  destruction  till 
she  had  them  by  the  throat.  But  I  can  tell  you  where  the 
sword  was  forged,  and  tempered,  and  welded,  and 
grinded,  and  polished.  When  you  were,  as  I  said  before, 
making  whittles  for  false  priests,  and  daggers  for  dissolute 
G — d-d — n-me  Cavaliers,  to  cut  the  people  of  England's 
throats  with,  it  was  forged  at  Long  Marston  Moor, 
where  blows  went  faster  than  ever  rung  hammer  on  anvil ; 
and  it  was  tempered  at  Naseby,  in  the  best  blood  of  the 
Cavaliers;  and  it  was  welded  in  Ireland  against  the  walls 
of  Drogheda;  and  it  was  grinded  on  Scottish  lives  at 
Dunbar;  and  now  of  late  it  was  polished  in  Worcester, 
till  it  shines  as  bright  as  the  sun  in  the  middle  heaven, 
and  there  is  no  light  in  England  that  shall  come  nigh 
unto  it.' 

Here  the  miHtary  part  of  the  congregation  raised  a 
hum  of  approbation,  which,  being  a  sound  like  the 
'hear  —  hear'  of  the  British  House  of  Commons,  was 
calculated  to  heighten  the  enthusiasm  of  the  orator,  by 
intimating  the  sympathy  of  the  audience.  'And  then,' 
resumed  the  preacher,  rising  in  energy  as  he  found  that 
his  audience  partook  in  these  feelings,  *  what  sayeth  the 
text?  Ride  on  prosperously  —  do  not  stop  —  do  not 
call  a  halt  —  do  not  quit  the  saddle  —  pursue  the  scat- 
tered fliers  —  sound  the  trumpet,  not  a  levant  or  a 
flourish,  but  a  point  of  war  —  sound,  boot  and  saddle 
—  to  horse  and  away  —  a  charge !  Follow  after  the 
Young  Man!  What  part  have  we  in  him?   Slay,  take, 

12 


WOODSTOCK 

destroy,  divide  the  spoil!  Blessed  art  thou,  Oliver,  on 
account  of  thine  honour;  thy  cause  is  clear,  thy  call  is 
undoubted  —  never  has  defeat  come  near  thy  leading- 
staff,  nor  disaster  attended  thy  banner.  Ride  in,  flower 
of  England's  soldiers!  —  ride  on,  chosen  leader  of  God's 
champions !  —  gird  up  the  loins  of  thy  resolution,  and 
be  steadfast  to  the  mark  of  thy  high  calling!' 

Another  deep  and  stern  hum,  echoed  by  the  ancient 
embowered  arches  of  the  old  chantry,  gave  him  an  op- 
portunity of  an  instant's  repose;  when  the  people  of 
Woodstock  heard  him,  and  not  without  anxiety,  turn 
the  stream  of  his  oratory  into  another  channel. 

*But  wherefore,  ye  people  of  Woodstock,  do  I  say 
these  tilings  to  you,  who  claim  no  portion  in  our  David, 
no  interest  in  England's  son  of  Jesse?  You,  who  were 
fighting  as  well  as  your  might  could,  and  it  was  not  very 
formidable,  for  the  late  Man,  under  that  old  blood- 
thirsty Papist  Sir  Jacob  Aston,  are  you  not  now  plot- 
ting, or  ready  to  plot,  for  the  restoring,  as  ye  call  it,  of 
the  Young  Man  —  the  unclean  son  of  the  slaughtered 
tyrant,  the  fugitive  after  whom  the  true  hearts  of  Eng- 
land are  now  following,  that  they  may  take  and  slay 
him?  "  Why  should  your  rider  turn  his  bridle  our  way?  " 
say  you  in  your  hearts;  "we  will  none  of  him;  if  we  may 
help  ourselves,  we  will  rather  turn  us  to  wallow  in  the 
mire  of  monarchy,  with  the  sow  that  was  washed  but 
newly."  Come,  men  of  Woodstock,  I  will  ask,  and  do  you 
answer  me.  Hunger  ye  still  after  the  flesh-pots  of  the 
monks  of  Godstow?  and  ye  will  say,  Nay;  but  wherefore, 
except  that  the  pots  are  cracked  and  broken,  and  the 
fire  is  extinguished  wherewith  thy  oven  used  to  boil? 
And  again,  I  ask,  drink  ye  still  of  the  well  of  the  forni- 

13 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

cations  of  the  fair  Rosamond?  Ye  will  say,  Nay;  but 
wherefore  — ? ' 

Here  the  orator,  ere  he  could  answer  the  question  in 
his  own  way,  was  surprised  by  the  following  reply,  very 
pithily  pronounced  by  one  of  the  congregation:  —  'Be- 
cause you,  and  the  like  of  you,  have  left  us  no  brandy  to 
mix  with  it.' 

All  eyes  turned  to  the  audacious  speaker,  who  stood 
beside  one  of  the  thick  sturdy  Saxon  pillars,  which  he 
himself  somewhat  resembled,  being  short  of  stature,  but 
very  strongly  made,  a  squat  broad  Little  John  sort  of 
figure,  leaning  on  a  quarter-staff,  and  wearing  a  jerkin, 
which,  though  now  sorely  stained  and  discoloured,  had 
once  been  of  the  Lincoln  green,  and  showed  remnants  of 
having  been  laced.  There  was  an  air  of  careless,  good- 
humoured  audacity  about  the  fellow;  and,  though  under 
military  restraint,  there  were  some  of  the  citizens  who 
could  not  help  crying  out  —  'Well  said,  Joceline  Joliffe !' 

'Jolly  Joceline,  call  ye  him?'  proceeded  the  preacher, 
without  showing  either  confusion  or  displeasure  at  the 
interruption ;  '  I  will  make  him  Joceline  of  the  jail,  if  he 
interrupts  me  again.  One  of  your  park-keepers,  I  war- 
rant, that  can  never  forget  they  have  borne  C.  R.  upon 
their  badges  and  bugle-horns,  even  as  a  dog  bears  his 
owner's  name  on  his  collar — a  pretty  emblem  for  Christ- 
ian men !  But  the  brute  beast  hath  the  better  of  him : 
the  brute  weareth  his  own  coat,  and  the  caitiff  thrall 
wears  his  master's.  I  have  seen  such  a  wag  make  a  rope's 
end  wag  ere  now.  Where  was  I?  Oh,  rebuking  you  for 
your  backslidings,  men  of  Woodstock.  Yes,  then  ye  will 
say  ye  have  renounced  Popery,  and  ye  have  renounced 
Prelacy,  and  then  ye  wipe  your  mouth  like  Pharisees  as 

14 


WOODSTOCK 

ye  are;  and  who  but  you  for  purity  of  religion !  But  I  tell 
you,  ye  are  but  like  Jehu  the  son  of  Nimshi,  who  broke 
down  the  house  of  Baal,  yet  departed  not  from  the  sins 
of  Jeroboam.  Even  so  ye  eat  not  fish  on  Friday  with  the 
blinded  Papists,  nor  minced  pies  on  the  twenty-fifth  day 
of  December,  like  the  slothful  Prelatists;  but  ye  will 
gorge  on  sack-posset  each  night  in  the  year  with  your 
blind  Presbyterian  guide,  and  ye  will  speak  evil  of  digni- 
ties, and  revile  the  Commonwealth;  and  ye  will  glorify 
yourselves  in  your  park  of  Woodstock,  and  say,  "Was 
it  not  walled  in  first  of  any  other  in  England,  and  that 
by  Henry,  son  of  William  called  the  Conqueror?"  And 
ye  have  a  princely  lodge  therein,  and  call  the  same  a  royal 
lodge;  and  ye  have  an  oak  which  ye  call  the  King's  Oak; 
and  ye  steal  and  eat  the  venison  of  the  park,  and  ye  say, 
"This  is  the  king's  venison,  we  will  wash  it  down  with  a 
cup  to  the  king's  health:  better  we  eat  it  than  those 
Roundheaded  Commonwealth  knaves."  But  listen  unto 
me,  and  take  warning.  For  these  things  come  we  to  con- 
troversy with  you.  And  our  name  shall  be  a  cannon- 
shot,  before  which  your  lodge,  in  the  pleasantness 
whereof  ye  take  pastime,  shall  be  blown  into  ruins;  and 
we  will  be  as  a  wedge  to  spHt  asunder  the  King's  Oak 
into  billets  to  heat  a  brown  baker's  oven;  and  we  will 
dispark  your  park,  and  slay  your  deer,  and  eat  them 
ourselves,  neither  shall  you  have  any  portion  thereof, 
whether  in  neck  or  haunch.  Ye  shall  not  haft  a  tenpenny 
knife  with  the  horns  thereof,  neither  shall  ye  cut  a  pair 
of  breeches  out  of  the  hide,  for  all  ye  be  cutlers  and  glov- 
ers ;  and  ye  shall  have  no  comfort  or  support  neither  from 
the  sequestrated  traitor  Henry  Lee,  who  called  himself 
ranger  of  Woodstock,  nor  from  any  on  his  behalf;  for 

IS 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

they  are  coming  hither  who  shall  be  called  Maher- 
shalal-hash-baz,  because  he  maketh  haste  to  the  spoil.' 
Here  ended  this  wild  effusion,  the  latter  part  of  which 
fell  heavy  on  the  souls  of  the  poor  citizens  of  Woodstock, 
as  tending  to  confirm  a  report  of  an  unpleasing  nature 
which  had  been  lately  circulated.  The  communication 
with  London  was  indeed  slow,  and  the  news  which  it 
transmitted  were  uncertain;  no  less  uncertain  were  the 
times  themselves,  and  the  rumours  which  were  circu- 
lated, exaggerated  by  the  hopes  and  fears  of  so  many 
various  factions.  But  the  general  stream  of  report,  so  far 
as  Woodstock  was  concerned,  had  of  late  run  uniformly 
in  one  direction.  Day  after  day  they  had  been  informed 
that  the  fatal  fiat  of  Parliament  had  gone  out,  for  selling 
the  park  of  Woodstock,  destroying  its  lodge,  disparking 
its  forest,  and  erasing,  as  far  as  they  could  be  erased, 
all  traces  of  its  ancient  fame.  Many  of  the  citizens  were 
likely  to  be  sufferers  on  this  occasion,  as  several  of  them 
enjoyed,  either  by  sufferance  or  right,  various  convenient 
privileges  of  pasturage,  cutting  firewood,  and  the  Uke, 
in  the  royal  chase;  and  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  little 
borough  were  hurt  to  think  that  the  scenery  of  the  place 
was  to  be  destroyed,  its  edifices  ruined,  and  its  honours 
rent  away.  This  is  a  patriotic  sensation  often  found  in 
such  places,  which  ancient  distinctions  and  long-cher- 
ished recollections  of  former  days  render  so  different  from 
towns  of  recent  date.  The  natives  of  Woodstock  felt  it 
in  the  fullest  force.  They  had  trembled  at  the  antici- 
pated calamity ;  but  now,  when  it  was  announced  by  the 
appearance  of  those  dark,  stern,  and  at  the  same  time 
omnipotent,  soldiers  —  now  that  they  heard  it  pro- 
claimed by  the  mouth  of  one  of  their  military  preachers, 

i6 


WOODSTOCK 

they  considered  their  fate  as  inevitable.  The  causes  of 
disagreement  among  themselves  were  for  the  time  for- 
gotten, as  the  congregation,  dismissed  without  psalmody 
or  benediction,  went  slowly  and  mournfully  homeward, 
each  to  his  own  place  of  abode. 


87 


CHAPTER  II 


Come  forth,  old  man.  Thy  daughter's  side 
Is  now  the  fitting  place  for  thee; 

When  Time  hath  qucll'd  the  oali's  bold  pride, 
The  youthful  tendril  yet  may  hide 
The  ruins  of  the  parent  tree. 


When  the  sermon  was  ended,  the  military  orator  wiped 
his  brow ;  for,  notwithstanding  the  coolness  of  the  weather 
he  was  heated  with  the  vehemence  of  his  speech  and 
action.  He  then  descended  from  the  pulpit,  and  spoke 
a  word  or  two  to  the  corporal  who  commanded  the  party 
of  soldiers,  who,  replying  by  a  sober  nod  of  intelligence, 
drew  his  men  together,  and  marched  them  in  order  to 
their  quarters  in  the  town. 

The  preacher  himself,  as  if  nothing  extraordinary  had 
happened,  left  the  church  and  sauntered  through  the 
streets  of  Woodstock,  with  the  air  of  a  stranger  who  was 
viewing  the  town,  without  seeming  to  observe  that  he 
was  himself  in  his  turn  anxiously  surveyed  by  the  citi- 
zens, whose  furtive  yet  frequent  glances  seemed  to  regard 
him  as  something  ahke  suspected  and  dreadful,  yet  on 
no  account  to  be  provoked.  He  heeded  them  not,  but 
stalked  on  in  the  manner  affected  by  the  distinguished 
fanatics  of  the  day  —  a  stiff,  solemn  pace,  a  severe,  and 
at  the  same  time  a  contemplative,  look,  like  that  of  a 
man  discomposed  at  the  interruptions  which  earthly 
objects  forced  upon  him,  obUging  him  by  their  intrusion 
to  withdraw  his  thoughts  for  an  instant  from  celestial 
things.  Innocent  pleasures  of  what  kind  soever  they  held 
in  suspicion  and  contempt,  and  innocent  mirth  they 

i8 


WOODSTOCK 

abominated.  It  was,  however,  a  cast  of  mind  that 
formed  men  for  great  and  manly  actions,  as  it  adopted 
principle,  and  that  of  an  unselfish  character,  for  the 
ruling  motive,  instead  of  the  gratification  of  passion. 
Some  of  these  men  were  indeed  hypocrites,  using  the 
cloak  of  religion  only  as  a  covering  for  their  ambition; 
but  many  really  possessed  the  devotional  character  and 
the  severe  republican  virtue  which  others  only  affected. 
By  far  the  greater  number  hovered  between  these  ex- 
tremes, felt  to  a  certain  extent  the  power  of  religion, 
and  complied  with  the  times  in  affecting  a  great  deal. 

The  individual  whose  pretensions  to  sanctity,  written 
as  they  were  upon  his  brow  and  gait,  have  given  rise  to 
the  above  digression  reached  at  length  the  extremity 
of  the  principal  street,  which  terminates  upon  the  park 
of  Woodstock.  A  battlemented  portal  of  Gothic  appear- 
ance defended  the  entrance  to  the  avenue.  It  was  of 
mixed  architecture,  but  on  the  whole,  though  composed 
of  the  styles  of  the  different  ages  when  it  had  received 
additions,  had  a  striking  and  imposing  effect.  An  im- 
mense gate  composed  of  rails  of  hammered  iron,  with 
many  a  flourish  and  scroll,  displaying  as  its  uppermost 
ornament  the  ill-fated  cipher  of  C.  R.,  was  now  decayed, 
being  partly  wasted  with  rust,  partly  by  violence. 

The  stranger  paused,  as  if  uncertain  whether  he  should 
demand  or  assay  entrance.  He  looked  through  the  grat- 
ing down  an  avenue  skirted  by  majestic  oaks,  which  led 
onward  with  a  gentle  curve,  as  if  into  the  depths  of  some 
ample  and  ancient  forest.  The  wicket  of  the  large  iron 
gate  being  left  unwittingly  open,  the  soldier  was  tempted 
to  enter,  yet  with  some  hesitation,  as  he  that  intrudes 
upon  ground  which  he  conjectures  may  be  prohibited; 

19 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

indeed,  his  manner  showed  more  reverence  for  the  scene 
than  could  have  been  expected  from  his  condition  and 
character.  He  slackened  his  stately  and  consequential 
pace,  and  at  length  stood  still  and  looked  around  him. 

Not  far  from  the  gate,  he  saw  rising  from  the  trees 
one  or  two  ancient  and  venerable  turrets,  bearing  each 
its  own  vane  of  rare  device  gHttering  in  the  autumn  sun. 
These  indicated  the  ancient  hunting-seat,  or  lodge,  as 
it  was  called,  which  had,  since  the  time  of  Henry  II., 
been  occasionally  the  residence  of  the  English  monarchs, 
when  it  pleased  them  to  visit  the  woods  of  Oxford,  which 
then  so  abounded  with  game  that,  according  to  old 
Fuller,  huntsmen  and  falconers  were  nowhere  better 
pleased.  The  situation  which  the  lodge  occupied  was  a 
piece  of  flat  ground,  now  planted  with  sycamores,  not 
far  from  the  entrance  to  that  magnificent  spot  where  the 
spectator  first  stops  to  gaze  upon  Blenheim,  to  think  of 
Marlborough's  victories,  and  to  applaud  or  criticise  the 
cumbrous  magnificence  of  Vanburgh's  style. 

There,  too,  paused  our  military  preacher,  but  with 
other  thoughts,  and  for  other  purpose,  than  to  admire 
the  scene  around  him.  It  was  not  long  afterwards  when 
he  beheld  two  persons,  a  male  and  a  female,  approach- 
ing slowly,  and  so  deeply  engaged  in  their  own  conver- 
sation that  they  did  not  raise  their  eyes  to  observe  that 
there  stood  a  stranger  in  the  path  before  them.  The  sol- 
dier took  advantage  of  their  state  of  abstraction,  and, 
desirous  at  once  to  watch  their  motions  and  avoid  their 
observation,  he  glided  beneath  one  of  the  huge  trees 
which  skirted  the  path,  and  whose  boughs,  sweeping  the 
ground  on  every  side,  ensured  him  against  discovery, 
unless  in  case  of  an  actual  search. 

20 


WOODSTOCK 

In  the  mean  time,  the  gentleman  and  lady  continued 
to  advance,  directing  their  course  to  a  rustic  seat,  which 
still  enjoyed  the  sunbeams,  and  was  placed  adjacent  to 
the  tree  where  the  stranger  was  concealed. 

The  man  was  elderly,  yet  seemed  bent  more  by  sor- 
row and  infirmity  than  by  the  weight  of  years.  He  wore 
a  mourning  cloak,  over  a  dress  of  the  same  melancholy 
colour,  cut  in  that  picturesque  form  which  Vandyck  has 
rendered  immortal.  But  although  the  dress  was  hand- 
some, it  was  put  on  and  worn  with  a  carelessness  which 
showed  the  mind  of  the  wearer  ill  at  ease.  His  aged,  yet 
still  handsome,  countenance  had  the  same  air  of  conse- 
quence which  distinguished  his  dress  and  his  gait.  A 
striking  part  of  his  appearance  was  a  long  white  beard, 
which  descended  far  over  the  breast  of  his  slashed  doub- 
let, and  looked  singular  from  its  contrast  in  colour  with 
his  habit. 

The  young  lady,  by  whom  this  venerable  gentleman 
seemed  to  be  in  some  degree  supported  as  they  walked 
arm  in  arm,  was  a  slight  and  sylph-like  form,  with  a  per- 
son so  delicately  made,  and  so  beautiful  in  countenance, 
that  it  seemed  the  earth  on  which  she  walked  was  too 
grossly  massive  a  support  for  a  creature  so  aerial.  But 
mortal  beauty  must  share  human  sorrows.  The  eyes 
of  the  beautiful  being  showed  tokens  of  tears;  her  colour 
was  heightened  as  she  listened  to  her  aged  companion; 
and  it  was  plain,  from  his  melancholy  yet  displeased 
look,  that  the  conversation  was  as  distressing  to  himself 
as  to  her.  When  they  sate  down  on  the  bench  we  have 
mentioned,  the  gentleman's  discourse  could  be  distinctly 
overheard  by  the  eavesdropping  soldier,  but  the  answers 
of  the  young  lady  reached  his  ears  rather  less  distinctly. 

21 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'  It  is  not  to  be  endured !'  said  the  old  man,  passionately ; 
'it  would  stir  up  a  paralytic  wretch  to  start  up  a  soldier. 
My  people  have  been  thinned,  I  grant  you,  or  have  fallen 
off  from  me  in  these  times.  I  owe  them  no  grudge  for  it, 
poor  knaves;  what  should  they  do  waiting  on  me,  when 
the  pantry  has  no  bread  and  the  buttery  no  ale.  But  we 
have  still  about  us  some  rugged  foresters  of  the  old  Wood- 
stock breed  —  old  as  myself  most  of  them.  What  of 
that?  old  wood  seldom  warps  in  the  wetting.  I  will  hold 
out  the  old  house,  and  it  will  not  be  the  first  time  that 
I  have  held  it  against  ten  times  the  strength  that  we 
hear  of  now.' 

'  Alas !  my  dear  father ! '  said  the  young  lady,  in  a  tone 
which  seemed  to  intimate  his  proposal  of  defence  to  be 
altogether  desperate. 

'And  why  alas?'  said  the  gentleman,  angrily;  'is  it 
because  I  shut  my  door  against  a  score  or  two  of  these 
bloodthirsty  hypocrites?' 

'But  their  masters  can  as  easily  send  a  regiment  or  an 
army,  if  they  will, '  repHed  the  lady ; '  and  what  good  would 
your  present  defence  do,  excepting  to  exasperate  them 
to  your  utter  destruction? ' 

'Be  it  so,  Alice,'  replied  her  father;  'I  have  lived  my 
time,  and  beyond  it.  I  have  outlived  the  kindest  and 
most  princely  of  masters.  What  do  I  do  on  the  earth 
since  the  dismal  Thirtieth  of  January?  The  parricide  of 
that  day  was  a  signal  to  all  true  servants  of  Charles 
Stuart  to  avenge  his  death,  or  die  as  soon  after  as  they 
could  find  a  worthy  opportunity.' 

'Do  not  speak  thus,  sir,'  said  Alice  Lee:  'it  does  not 
become  your  gravity  and  your  worth  to  throw  away 
that  life  which  may  yet  be  of  service  to  your  king  and 

22 


WOODSTOCK 

country.  It  will  not  and  cannot  always  be  thus.  England 
will  not  long  endure  the  rulers  which  these  bad  times 
have  assigned  her.  In  the  mean  while  —  [here  a  few 
words  escaped  the  listener's  ears]  —  and  beware  of  that 
impatience  which  makes  bad  worse.' 

'  Worse ! '  exclaimed  the  impatient  old  man.  *  What 
can  be  worse?  Is  it  not  at  the  worst  already?  Will  not 
these  people  expel  us  from  the  only  shelter  we  have  left, 
dilapidate  what  remains  of  royal  property  under  my 
charge,  make  the  palace  of  princes  into  a  den  of  thieves, 
and  then  wipe  their  mouths  and  thank  God,  as  if  they 
had  done  an  alms-deed?' 

'Still,'  said  his  daughter,  'there  is  hope  behind,  and  I 
trust  the  King  is  ere  this  out  of  their  reach.  We  have 
reason  to  think  well  of  my  brother  Albert's  safety.' 

*  Ay,  Albert!  there  again,'  said  the  old  man,  in  a  tone 
of  reproach;  'had  it  not  been  for  thy  entreaties  I  had 
gone  to  Worcester  myself;  but  I  must  needs  lie  here  like 
a  worthless  hound  when  the  hunt  is  up,  when  who  knows 
what  service  I  might  have  shown?  An  old  man's  head 
is  sometimes  useful  when  his  arm  is  but  Uttle  worth. 
But  you  and  Albert  were  so  desirous  that  he  should 
go  alone,  and  now  who  can  say  what  has  become  of 
him?' 

'Nay  —  nay,  father,'  said  Alice,  'we  have  good  hope 
that  Albert  escaped  from  that  fatal  day;  yoimg  Abney 
saw  him  a  mile  from  the  field.' 

'Young  Abney  Hed,  I  believe,'  said  the  father,  in  the 
same  humour  of  contradiction.  '  Young  Abney's  tongue 
seems  quicker  than  his  hands,  but  far  slower  than  his 
horse's  heels  when  he  leaves  the  Roundheads  behind 
him.  I  would  rather  Albert's  dead  body  were  laid  between 

23 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Charles  and  Cromwell  than  hear  he  fled  as  early  as  young 
Abney.' 

'My  dearest  father,'  said  the  young  lady,  weeping  as 
she  spoke,  'what  can  I  say  to  comfort  you?' 

'  Comfort  me,  say'st  thou,  girl?  I  am  sick  of  comfort: 
an  honourable  death,  with  the  ruins  of  Woodstock  for 
my  monument,  were  the  only  comfort  to  old  Henry  Lee. 
Yes,  by  the  memory  of  my  fathers !  I  will  make  good  the 
lodge  against  these  rebellious  robbers.' 

'Yet  be  ruled,  dearest  father,'  said  the  maiden,  'and 
submit  to  that  which  we  cannot  gainsay.  My  uncle 
Everard  — ' 

Here  the  old  man  caught  at  her  unfinished  words. 
'Thy  uncle  Everard,  wench!  Well,  get  on.  What  of  thy 
precious  and  loving  uncle  Everard?' 

'Nothing,  sir,'  she  said,  'if  the  subject  displeases  you.' 

'  Displeases  me ! '  he  replied,  '  why  should  it  displease 
me?  or  if  it  did,  why  shouldst  thou,  or  any  one,  affect 
to  care  about  it?  What  is  it  that  hath  happened  of  late 
years  —  what  is  it  can  be  thought  to  happen  that  as- 
trologer can  guess  at  —  which  can  give  pleasure  to  us?  * 

'Fate,'  she  replied,  'may  have  in  store  the  joyful  re- 
storation of  our  banished  prince.' 

'Too  late  for  my  time,  Alice,'  said  the  knight:  'if  there 
be  such  a  white  page  in  the  heavenly  book,  it  will 
not  be  turned  until  long  after  my  day.  But  I  see  thou 
wouldst  escape  me.  In  a  word,  what  of  thy  uncle  Ever- 
ard?' 

'Nay,  sir,'  said  Alice,  'God  knows  I  would  rather  be 
silent  for  ever  than  speak  what  might,  as  you  would  take 
it,  add  to  your  present  distemperature.' 

'Distemperature!'  said  her  father.    'Oh,  thou  art  a 

24 


WOODSTOCK 

sweet-lipped  physician,  and  wouldst,  I  warrant  me,  drop 
nought  but  sweet  balm,  and  honey,  and  oil  on  my  dis- 
temperature,  if  that  is  the  phrase  for  an  old  man's  ail- 
ment, when  he  is  wellnigh  heartbroken.  Once  more, 
what  of  thy  uncle  Everard? ' 

His  last  words  were  uttered  in  a  high  and  peevish 
tone  of  voice ;  and  Alice  Lee  answered  her  father  in  a 
trembling  and  submissive  tone. 

*  I  only  meant  to  say,  sir,  that  I  am  well  assured  that 
my  uncle  Everard,  when  we  quit  this  place  — ' 

*  That  is  to  say,  when  we  are  kicked  out  of  it  by  crop- 
eared  canting  villains  like  himself.  But  on  with  thy 
bountiful  uncle  —  what  will  he  do?  Will  he  give  us  the 
remains  of  his  worshipful  and  economical  housekeeping, 
the  fragments  of  a  thrice-sacked  capon  twice  a  week,  and 
a  plentiful  fast  on  the  other  five  days?  Will  he  give  us 
beds  beside  his  half-starved  nags,  and  put  them  under 
a  short  allowance  of  straw,  that  his  sister's  husband  — 
that  I  should  have  called  my  deceased  angel  by  such  a 
name!  — and  his  sister's  daughter,  may  not  sleep  on  the 
stones?  Or  will  he  send  us  a  noble  each,  with  a  warning 
to  make  it  last,  for  he  had  never  known  the  ready  penny 
so  hard  to  come  by?  Or  what  else  will  yoiir  uncle  Ever- 
ard do  for  us?  Get  us  a  furlough  to  beg?  Why,  I  can 
do  that  without  him.' 

'You  misconstrue  him  much,'  answered  Alice,  with 
more  spirit  than  she  had  hitherto  displayed ; '  and  would 
you  but  question  your  own  heart,  you  would  acknowledge 
—  I  speak  with  reverence  —  that  your  tongue  utters 
what  your  better  judgment  would  disown.  My  uncle 
Everard  is  neither  a  miser  nor  a  hj^ocrite  —  neither  so 
fond  of  the  goods  of  this  world  that  he  would  not  supply 

25 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

our  distresses  amply,  nor  so  wedded  to  fanatical  opinions 
as  to  exclude  charity  for  other  sects  beside  his  own.' 

'  Ay  —  ay,  the  Church  of  England  is  a  sect  with  him, 
I  doubt  not,  and  perhaps  with  thee  too,  Alice,'  said  the 
knight.  'What  is  a  Muggletonian,  or  a  Ranter,  or  a 
Brownist,  but  a  sectary?  and  thy  phrase  places  them  all 
with  Jack  Presbyter  himself,  on  the  same  footing  with 
our  learned  prelates  and  rehgious  clergy!  Such  is  the 
cant  of  the  day  thou  livest  in,  and  why  shouldst  thou 
not  talk  Kke  one  of  the  wise  virgins  and  psalm-singing 
sisters,  since  though  thou  hast  a  profane  old  Cavalier 
for  a  father,  thou  art  own  niece  to  pious  uncle  Everard?' 

*If  you  speak  thus,  my  dear  father,'  said  Alice,  'what 
can  I  answer  you?  Hear  me  but  one  patient  word,  and 
I  shall  have  discharged  my  uncle  Everard's  commis- 
sion.' 

'Oh,  it  is  a  commission  then?  Surely,  I  suspected  so 
much  from  the  beginning  —  nay,  have  some  sharp  guess 
touching  the  ambassador  also.  Come,  madam  the  media- 
tor, do  your  errand,  and  you  shall  have  no  reason  to 
complain  of  my  patience.' 

'Then,  sir,'  replied  this  daughter,  'my  uncle  Everard 
desires  you  would  be  courteous  to  the  Commissioners 
who  come  here  to  sequestrate  the  parks  and  the  prop- 
erty, or,  at  least,  heedfully  to  abstain  from  giving  them 
obstacle  or  opposition;  it  can,  he  says,  do  no  good,  even 
on  your  own  principles,  and  it  will  give  a  pretext  for  pro- 
ceeding against  you  as  one  in  the  worst  degree  of  malig- 
nity, which  he  thinks  may  otherwise  be  prevented.  Nay, 
he  has  good  hope  that,  if  you  follow  his  counsel,  the 
committee  may,  through  the  interest  he  possesses,  be 
inclined  to  remove  the  sequestration  of  your  estate  on  a 

26 


WOODSTOCK 

moderate  fine.  Thus  says  my  uncle;  and  having  com- 
municated his  advice,  I  have  no  occasion  to  urge  your 
patience  with  further  argument.' 

'It  is  well  thou  dost  not,  Alice,'  answered  Sir  Henry 
Lee,  in  a  tone  of  suppressed  anger ;  '  for,  by  the  blessed 
Rood,  thou  hast  wellnigh  led  me  into  the  heresy  of  think- 
ing thee  no  daughter  of  mine.  Ah !  my  beloved  companion, 
who  art  now  far  from  the  sorrows  and  cares  of  this  weary 
world,  couldst  thou  have  thought  that  the  daughter 
thou  didst  clasp  to  thy  bosom  would,  like  the  wicked 
wife  of  Job,  become  a  temptress  to  her  father  in  the  hour 
of  aflfliction,  and  recommend  to  him  to  make  his  con- 
science truckle  to  his  interest,  and  to  beg  back  at  the 
bloody  hands  of  his  master's,  and  perhaps  his  son's, 
murderers  a  wretched  remnant  of  the  royal  property 
he  has  been  robbed  of?  Why,  wench,  if  I  must  beg, 
think'st  thou  I  will  sue  to  those  who  have  made  me  a 
mendicant?  No.  I  will  never  show  my  grey  beard,  worn 
in  sorrow  for  my  sovereign's  death,  to  move  the  compas- 
sion of  some  proud  sequestrator,  who  perhaps  was  one 
of  the  parricides.  No;  if  Henry  Lee  must  sue  for  food, 
it  shall  be  of  some  sound  loyalist  like  himself,  who,  hav- 
ing but  half  a  loaf  remaining,  will  not  nevertheless  refuse 
to  share  it  with  him.  For  his  daughter,  she  may  wander 
her  own  way,  which  leads  her  to  a  refuge  with  her  wealthy 
Roundhead  kinsfolk;  but  let  her  no  more  call  him  father 
whose  honest  indigence  she  has  refused  to  share.' 

'You  do  me  injustice,  sir,'  answered  the  young  lady, 
with  a  voice  animated,  yet  faltering  —  '  cruel  injustice. 
God  knows,  your  way  is  my  way,  though  it  leads  to 
ruin  and  beggary ;  and  while  you  tread  it,  my  arm  shall 
support  you  while  you  will  accept  an  aid  so  feeble.' 

27 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'Thou  word'st  me,  girl,'  answered  the  old  Cavalier 
—  'thou  word'st  me,  as  Will  Shakespeare  says:  thou 
speakest  of  lending  me  thy  arm;  but  thy  secret  thought 
is  thyself  to  hang  upon  Markham  Everard's.' 

*My  father  — my  father,'  answered  AHce,  in  a  tone  of 
deep  grief,  *  what  can  thus  have  altered  your  clear  judg- 
ment and  kindly  heart?  Accursed  be  these  civil  commo- 
tions! not  only  do  they  destroy  men's  bodies,  but  they 
pervert  their  souls;  and  the  brave,  the  noble,  the  gener- 
ous become  suspicious,  harsh,  and  mean.  Why  upbraid 
me  with  Markham  Everard?  Have  I  seen  or  spoke  to 
him  since  you  forbid  him  my  company,  with  terms  less 
kind  —  I  will  speak  it  truly  —  than  was  due  even  to  the 
relationship  betwixt  you?  Why  think  I  would  sacrifice 
to  that  young  man  my  duty  to  you?  Know  that,  were  I 
capable  of  such  criminal  weakness,  Markham  Everard 
were  the  first  to  despise  me  for  it.' 

She  put  her  handkerchief  to  her  eyes,  but  she  could 
not  hide  her  sobs,  nor  conceal  the  distress  they  inti- 
mated. 

The  old  man  was  moved.  *I  cannot  tell,'  he  said, 
'  what  to  think  of  it.  Thou  seem'st  sincere,  and  wert  ever 
a  good  and  kindly  daughter  —  how  thou  hast  let  that 
rebel  youth  creep  into  thy  heart  I  wot  not;  perhaps  it  is 
a  punishment  on  me,  who  thought  the  loyalty  of  my 
house  was  like  undefiled  ermine.  Yet  here  is  a  damned 
spot,  and  on  the  fairest  gem  of  all  —  my  own  dear  Alice. 
But  do  not  weep  —  we  have  enough  to  vex  us.  Where 
is  it  that  Shakespeare  hath  it  — 

Gentle  daughter, 
Give  even  way  unto  my  rough  affairs; 
Put  you  not  on  the  temper  of  the  times, 
Nor  be,  like  them,  to  Percy  troublesome?* 
28 


WOODSTOCK 

'I  am  glad/  answered  the  young  lady,  *to  hear  you 
quote  your  favourite  again,  sir.  Our  little  jars  are  ever 
wellnigh  ended  when  Shakespeare  comes  in  play.' 

'His  book  was  the  closet-companion  of  my  blessed 
master,'  said  Sir  Henry  Lee;  'after  the  Bible  —  with 
reverence  for  naming  them  together !  —  he  felt  more 
comfort  in  it  than  in  any  other;  and  as  I  have  shared  his 
disease,  why,  it  is  natural  I  should  take  his  medicine. 
Albeit,  I  pretend  not  to  my  master's  art  in  explaining 
the  dark  passages ;  for  I  am  but  a  rude  man,  and  rustic- 
ally brought  up  to  arms  and  hunting.' 

'You  have  seen  Shakespeare  yourself,  sir?'  said  the 
young  lady. 

'Silly  wench,'  replied  the  knight,  'he  died  when  I  was 
a  mere  child  —  thou  hast  heard  me  say  so  twenty  times; 
but  thou  wouldst  lead  the  old  man  away  from  the  tender 
subject.  Well,  though  I  am  not  blind,  I  can  shut  my  eyes 
and  follow.  Ben  Jonson  I  knew,  and  could  tell  thee 
many  a  tale  of  our  meetings  at  the  Mermaid,  where,  if 
there  was  much  wine,  there  was  much  wit  also.  We  did 
not  sit  blowing  tobacco  in  each  other's  faces,  and  turning 
up  the  whites  of  our  eyes  as  we  turned  up  the  bottom  of 
the  wine-pot.  Old  Ben  adopted  me  as  one  of  his  sons  in 
the  muses.  I  have  shown  you,  have  I  not,  the  verses, 
"To  my  much  beloved  son,  the  worshipful  Sir  Henry 
Lee  of  Ditchley,  Knight  and  Baronet"?' 

*I  do  not  remember  them  at  present,  sir,'  replied  Alice. 

'I  fear  ye  lie,  wench,'  said  her  father;  'but  no  mattei 
—  thou  canst  not  get  any  more  fooling  out  of  me  just 
now.  The  Evil  Spirit  hath  left  Saul  for  the  present.  We 
are  now  to  think  what  is  to  be  done  about  leaving  Wood- 
stock —  or  defending  it?' 

29 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

*My  dearest  father,'  said  Alice,  'can  you  still  nourish 
a  moment's  hope  of  making  good  the  place? ' 

'I  know  not,  wench,'  replied  Sir  Henry;  'I  would  fain 
have  a  parting  blow  with  them,  'tis  certain, 'and  who 
knows  where  a  blessing  may  alight?  But  then,  my  poor 
knaves  that  must  take  part  with  me  in  so  hopeless  a 
quarrel  —  that  thought  hampers  me,  I  confess.' 

*0h,  let  it  do  so,  sir,'  replied  Alice;  'there  are  soldiers 
in  the  town,  and  there  are  three  regiments  at  Oxford.' 

'Ah,  poor  Oxford!'  exclaimed  Sir  Henry,  whose  vacil- 
lating state  of  mind  was  turned  by  a  word  to  any  new 
subject  that  was  suggested.  'Seat  of  learning  and  loy- 
alty! these  rude  soldiers  are  unfit  inmates  for  thy  learned 
halls  and  poetical  bowers;  but  thy  pure  and  brilHant 
lamp  shall  defy  the  foul  breath  of  a  thousand  churls,  were 
they  to  blow  at  it  like  Boreas.  The  burning  bush  shall 
not  be  consumed,  even  by  the  heat  of  this  persecution.' 

'True,  sir,'  said  Alice,  'and  it  may  not  be  useless  to 
recollect,  that  any  stirring  of  the  Royalists  at  this  un- 
propitious  moment  will  make' them  deal  yet  more  harshly 
with  the  university,  which  they  consider  as  being  at  the 
bottom  of  everything  which  moves  for  the  King  in  these 
parts.' 

'It  is  true,  wench,'  replied  the  knight;  'and  small 
cause  would  make  the  villains  sequestrate  the  poor 
remains  which  the  civil  wars  have  left  to  the  colleges. 
That,  and  the  risk  of  my  poor  fellows — Well,  thou  hast 
disarmed  me,  girl.  I  will  be  as  patient  and  cakn  as  a 
martyr.' 

'  Pray  God  you  keep  your  word,  sir ! '  replied  his  daugh- 
ter; 'but  you  are  ever  so  much  moved  at  the  sight  of  any 
of  these  men,  that  — ' 

30 


WOODSTOCK 

'Would  you  make  a  child  of  me,  Alice?'  said  Sir 
Henry.  'Why,  know  you  not  that  I  can  look  upon  a 
viper,  or  a  toad,  or  a  bunch  of  engendering  adders,  with- 
out any  worse  feeling  than  a  little  disgust?  and  though 
a  Roundhead,  and  especially  a  redcoat,  are  in  my  opin- 
ion more  poisonous  than  vipers,  more  loathsome  than 
toads,  more  hateful  than  knotted  adders,  yet  can  I  over- 
come my  nature  so  far,  that,  should  one  of  them  appear 
at  this  moment,  thyself  should  see  how  civilly  I  would 
entreat  him.' 

As  he  spoke,  the  military  preacher  abandoned  his 
leafy  screen,  and,  stalking  forward,  stood  unexpectedly 
before  the  old  Cavalier,  who  stared  at  him,  as  if  he  had 
thought  his  expressions  had  actually  raised  the  devil. 

*  Who  art  thou? '  at  length  said  Sir  Henry,  in  a  raised 
and  angry  voice,  while  his  daughter  clung  to  his  arm  in 
terror,  little  confident  that  her  father's  pacific  resolu- 
tions would  abide  the  shock  of  this  unwelcome  appari- 
tion. 

*I  am  one,'  replied  the  soldier,  'who  neither  fear  nor 
shame  to  call  myself  a  poor  day-labourer  in  the  great 
work  of  England  —  umph!  Ay,  a  simple  and  sincere 
upholder  of  the  good  old  cause.' 

*  And  what  the  devil  do  you  seek  here? '  said  the  old 
knight,  fiercely. 

'The  welcome  due  to  the  steward  of  the  Lords  Com- 
missioners,' answered  the  soldier. 

'Welcome  art  thou  as  salt  would  be  to  sore  eyes,'  said 
the  Cavalier.  '  But  who  be  your  Commissioners,  man?  * 

The  soldier  with  little  courtesy  held  out  a  scroll,  which 
Sir  Henry  took  from  him  betwixt  his  finger  and  thumb, 
as  if  it  were  a  letter  from  a  pest-house;  and  held  it  at  as 

31 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

much  distance  from  his  eyes  as  his  purpose  of  reading  it 
would  permit.  He  then  read  aloud,  and  as  he  named 
the  parties  one  by  one,  he  added  a  short  commentary  on 
each  name,  addressed,  indeed,  to  Alice,  but  in  such  a 
tone  that  showed  he  cared  not  for  its  being  heard  by  the 
soldier. 

^  Deshorough — the  ploughman  Desborough — as  grov- 
elling a  clown  as  is  in  England  —  a  fellow  that  would 
be  best  at  home,  like  an  ancient  Scythian,  under  the  tilt 
of  a  waggon;  d — n  him.  Harrison,  a  bloody-minded, 
ranting  enthusiast,  who  read  the  Bible  to  such  purpose, 
that  he  never  lacked  a  text  to  justify  a  murder;  d — n, 
him  too.  Bletson  —  a  true-blue  Commonwealth's  man, 
one  of  Harrison's  Rota  Club,  with  his  noddle  full  of  new- 
fangled notions  about  government,  the  clearest  object  of 
which  is  to  establish  the  tail  upon  the  head;  a  fellow 
who  leaves  you  the  statutes  and  law  of  old  England,  to 
prate  of  Rome  and  Greece — sees  the  Areopagus  in  West- 
minster Hall,  and  takes  Old  Noll  for  a  Roman  consul. 
Adad,  he  is  like  to  prove  a  dictator  amongst  them  in- 
stead. Never  mind;  d — n  Bletson  too.' 

'  Friend,'  said  the  soldier,  *  I  would  willingly  be  civil, 
but  it  consists  not  with  my  duty  to  hear  these  godly  men, 
in  whose  service  I  am,  spoken  of  after  this  irreverent  and 
unbecoming  fashion.  And  albeit  I  know  that  you  Malig- 
nants  think  you  have  a  right  to  make  free  with  that  dam- 
nation which  you  seem  to  use  as  your  own  portion,  yet  it 
is  superfluous  to  invoke  it  against  others,  who  have  bet- 
ter hopes  in  their  thoughts  and  better  words  in  their 
mouths.' 

'Thou  art  but  a  canting  varlet,'  replied  the  knight; 
'  and  yet  thou  art  right  in  some  sense ;  for  it  is  superflu- 

32 


WOODSTOCK 

ous  to  curse  men  who  already  are  damned  as  black  as 
the  smoke  of  hell  itself.' 

*I  prithee  forbear,'  continued  the  soldier,  'for  man- 
ners' sake,  if  not  for  conscience :  grisly  oaths  suit  ill  with 
grey  beards.' 

'Nay,  that  is  truth,  if  the  devil  spoke  it,'  said  the 
knight;  'and  I  thank  Heaven  I  can  follow  good  counsel, 
though  Old  Nick  gives  it.  And  so,  friend,  touching  these 
same  Commissioners,  bear  them  this  message:  that  Sir 
Henry  Lee  is  keeper  of  Woodstock  Park,  with  right  of 
waif  and  stray,  vert  and  venison,  as  complete  as  any  of 
them  have  to  their  estate  —  that  is,  if  they  possess  any 
estate  but  what  they  have  gained  by  plundering  honest 
men  — nevertheless,  he  will  give  place  to  those  who  have 
made  their  might  their  right,  and  will  not  expose  the 
lives  of  good  and  true  men,  where  the  odds  are  so  much 
against  them.  And  he  protests  that  he  makes  this  sur- 
render, neither  as  acknowledging  of  these  so  termed  Com- 
missioners, nor  as  for  his  own  individual  part  fearing 
their  force,  but  purely  to  avoid  the  loss  of  English  blood, 
of  which  so  much  hath  been  spilt  in  these  late  times.' 

'It  is  well  spoken,'  said  the  steward  of  the  Commis- 
sioners; 'and  therefore,  I  pray  you,  let  us  walk  together 
into  the  house,  that  thou  mayst  deliver  up  unto  me  the 
vessels,  and  gold  and  silver  ornaments,  belonging  unto  the 
Egyptian  Pharaoh  who  committed  them  to  thy  keeping.' 

'What  vessels?'  exclaimed  the  fiery  old  knight;  'and 
belonging  to  whom?  Unbaptized  dog,  speak  civil  of  the 
Martyr  in  my  presence,  or  I  will  do  a  deed  misbecom- 
ing of  me  on  that  caitiff  corpse  of  thine ! '  And  shaking 
his  daughter  from  his  right  arm,  the  old  man  laid  his 
hand  on  his  rapier. 

»7  33 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

His  antagonist,  on  the  contrary,  kept  his  temper  com- 
pletely, and  waving  his  hand  to  add  impression  to  his 
speech,  he  said,  with  a  calmness  which  aggravated  Sir 
Henry's  wrath,  *  Nay,  good  friend,  I  prithee  be  still,  and 
brawl  not:  it  becomes  not  grey  hairs  and  feeble  arms  to 
rail  and  rant  hke  drunkards.  Put  me  not  to  use  the 
carnal  weapon  in  mine  own  defence,  but  listen  to  the 
voice  of  reason.  Seest  thou  not  that  the  Lord  hath  de- 
cided this  great  controversy  in  favour  of  us  and  ours, 
against  thee  and  thine?  Wherefore  render  up  thy  stew- 
ardship peacefully,  and  deliver  up  to  me  the  chattels  of 
the  Man,  Charles  Stuart.' 

'Patience  is  a  good  nag,  but  she  will  bolt,'  said  the 
knight,  unable  longer  to  rein  in  his  wrath.  He  plucked 
his  sheathed  rapier  from  his  side,  struck  the  soldier  a 
severe  blow  with  it,  and  instantly  drawing  it,  and  throw- 
ing the  scabbard  over  the  trees,  placed  himself  in  a  pos- 
ture of  defence,  with  his  sword's  point  within  half  a  yard 
of  the  steward's  body.  The  latter  stepped  back  with 
activity,  threw  his  long  cloak  from  his  shoulders,  and 
drawing  his  long  tuck,  stood  upon  his  guard.  The  swords 
clashed  smartly  together,  while  Alice,  in  her  terror, 
screamed  wildly  for  assistance.  But  the  combat  was  of 
short  duration.  The  old  Cavalier  had  attacked  a  man 
as  cunning  of  fence  as  he  himself,  or  a  little  more  so,  and 
possessing  all  the  strength  and  activity  of  which  time 
had  deprived  Sir  Henry,  and  the  calmness  which  the 
other  had  lost  in  his  passion.  They  had  scarce  exchanged 
three  passes  ere  the  sword  of  the  knight  flew  up  in  the  air 
as  if  it  had  gone  in  search  of  the  scabbard ;  and  burning 
with  shame  and  anger,  Sir  Henry  stood  disarmed,  at  the 
mercy  of  his  antagonist.  The  republican  showed  no  pur- 

34 


WOODSTOCK 

pose  of  abusing  his  victory;  nor  did  he,  either  during  the 
combat  or  after  the  victory  was  won,  in  any  respect  alter 
the  sour  and  grave  composure  which  reigned  upon  his 
countenance :  a  combat  of  life  and  death  seemed  to  him 
a  thing  as  familiar,  and  as  Httle  to  be  feared,  as  an  ordin- 
ary bout  with  foils. 

'Thou  art  deHvered  into  my  hands,'  he  said,  'and  by 
the  law  of  arms  I  might  smite  thee  under  the  fifth  rib, 
even  as  Asahel  was  struck  dead  by  Abner,  the  son  of  Ner, 
as  he  followed  the  chase  on  the  hill  of  Ammah,  that 
lieth  before  Giah,  in  the  way  of  the  wilderness  of  Gibeon, 
but  far  be  it  from  me  to  spill  thy  remaining  drops  of 
blood.  True  it  is,  thou  art  the  captive  of  my  sword  and 
of  my  spear;  nevertheless,  seeing  that  there  may  be  a 
turning  from  thine  evil  ways,  and  a  returning  to  those 
which  are  good,  if  the  Lord  enlarge  thy  date  for  repent- 
ance and  amendment,  wherefore  should  it  be  shortened 
by  a  poor  sinful  mortal,  who  is,  speaking  truly,  but  thy 
feilow-worm?' 

Sir  Henry  Lee  remained  still  confused  and  unable  to 
answer,  when  there  arrived  a  fourth  person,  whom  the 
cries  of  Alice  had  summoned  to  the  spot.  This  was  Joce- 
line  Joliffe,  one  of  the  under-keepers  of  the  walk,  who, 
seeing  how  matters  stood,  brandished  his  quarterstaff, 
a  weapon  from  which  he  never  parted,  and  having  made 
it  describe  the  figure  of  eight  in  a  flourish  through  the 
air,  would  have  brought  it  down  with  a  vengeance  upon 
the  head  of  the  steward,  had  not  Sir  Henry  interposed. 

*We  must  trail  bats  now,  Joceline,  our  time  of  shoul- 
dering them  is  past.  It  skills  not  striving  against  the 
stream:  the  devil  rules  the  roast,  and  makes  our  slaves 
our  tutors.' 

35 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

At  this  moment  another  auxiliary  rushed  out  of  the 
thicket  to  the  knight's  assistance.  It  was  a  large  wolf- 
dog,  in  strength  a  mastiff,  in  form  and  almost  in  fleetness 
a  greyhound.  Bevis  was  the  noblest  of  the  kind  which 
ever  pulled  down  a  stag,  tawny-coloured  Hke  a  lion,  with 
a  black  muzzle  and  black  feet,  just  edged  with  a  line  of 
white  round  the  toes.  He  was  as  tractable  as  he  was 
strong  and  bold.  Just  as  he  was  about  to  rush  upon  the 
soldier,  the  words,  'Peace,  Bevis!'  from  Sir  Henry  con- 
verted the  lion  into  a  lamb,  and,  instead  of  pulHng  the 
soldier  down,  he  walked  round  and  round,  and  snuffed, 
as  if  using  all  his  sagacity  to  discover  who  the  stranger 
could  be  towards  whom,  though  of  so  questionable  an 
appearance,  he  was  enjoined  forbearance.  Apparently 
he  was  satisfied,  for  he  laid  aside  his  doubtful  and  threat- 
ening demonstrations,  lowered  his  ears,  smoothed  down 
his  bristles,  and  wagged  his  tail. 

Sir  Henry,  who  had  great  respect  for  the  sagacity  of 
his  favourite,  said  in  a  low  voice  to  AHce,  *  Bevis  is  of  thy 
opinion,  and  counsels  submission.  There  is  the  finger  of 
Heaven  in  this  to  punish  the  pride  ever  the  fault  of  our 
house.  Friend,'  he  continued,  addressing  the  soldier, 
*  thou  hast  given  the  finishing  touch  to  a  lesson  which 
ten  years  of  constant  misfortune  have  been  unable  fully 
to  teach  me.  Thou  hast  distinctly  shown  me  the  folly  of 
thinking  that  a  good  cause  can  strengthen  a  weak  arm. 
God  forgive  me  for  the  thought,  but  I  could  almost  turn 
infidel,  and  believe  that  Heaven's  blessing  goes  ever  with 
the  longest  sword.  But  it  will  not  be  always  thus.  God 
knows  His  time.  Reach  me  my  Toledo,  Joceline,  yonder 
it  lies;  and  the  scabbard,  see  where  it  hangs  on  the  tree. 
Do  not  pull  at  my  cloak,  Alice,  and  look  so  miserably 

36 


WOODSTOCK 

frightened:  I  shall  be  in  no  hurry  to  betake  me  to  bright 
steel  again,  I  promise  thee.  For  thee,  good  fellow,  I 
thank  thee,  and  will  make  way  for  thy  masters  without 
further  dispute  or  ceremony.  Joceline  Joliffe  is  nearer 
thy  degree  than  I  am,  and  will  make  surrender  to  thee  of 
the  lodge  and  household  stuff.  Withhold  nothing,  Joliflfe : 
let  them  have  all.  For  me,  I  will  never  cross  the  thresh- 
old again.  But  where  to  rest  for  a  night?  I  would  trou- 
ble no  one  in  Woodstock;  hum  —  ay  —  it  shall  be  so. 
Alice  and  I,  Joceline,  will  go  down  to  thy  hut  by  Rosa- 
mond's Well:  we  will  borrow  the  shelter  of  thy  roof  for 
one  night  at  least;  thou  wilt  give  us  welcome,  wilt  thou 
not?   How  now  —  a  clouded  brow? ' 

Joceline  certainly  looked  embarrassed,  directed  first  a 
glance  to  AHce,  then  looked  to  heaven,  then  to  earth,  and 
last  to  the  four  quarters  of  the  horizon,  and  then  mur- 
mured out,  *  Certainly  —  without  question  —  might  he 
but  run  down  to  put  the  house  in  order.' 

'  Order  enough  —  order  enough,  for  those  that  may 
soon  be  glad  of  clean  straw  in  a  barn,'  said  the  knight. 
*But  if  thou  hast  an  ill-will  to  harbour  any  obnoxious  or 
malignant  persons,  as  the  phrase  goes,  never  shame  to 
speak  it  out,  man.  'Tis  true,  I  took  thee  up  when  thou 
wert  but  a  ragged  Robin, ^  made  a  keeper  of  thee,  and  so 
forth.  What  of  that?  Sailors  think  no  longer  of  the  wind 
than  when  it  forwards  them  on  the  voyage:  thy  betters 
turn  with  the  tide,  why  should  not  such  a  poor  knave  as 
thou?' 

'  God  pardon  your  honour  for  your  harsh  judgment,' 
said  Johffe.  '  The  hut  is  yours,  such  as  it  is,  and  should 

^  The  keeper's  followers  in  the  New  Forest  are  called  in  popular  lan- 
guage '  ragged  Robins.' 

37 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

be  were  it  a  king's  palace,  as  I  wish  it  were,  even  for  your 
honour's  sake  and  Mistress  Alice's;  only  I  could  wish 
your  honour  would  condescend  to  let  me  step  down  be- 
fore, in  case  any  neighbour  be  there  —  or  —  or  —  just 
to  put  matters  something  into  order  for  Mistress  Alice 
and  your  honour  —  just  to  make  things  something 
seemly  and  shapely.' 

'Not  a  whit  necessary,'  said  the  knight,  while  Alice 
had  much  trouble  in  concealing  her  agitation.  'If  thy 
matters  are  unseemly,  they  are  fitter  for  a  defeated 
knight;  if  they  are  unshapely,  why,  the  liker  to  the  rest 
of  a  world  which  is  all  unshaped.  Go  thou  with  that 
man.  What  is  thy  name,  friend?' 

'Joseph  Tomkins  is  my  name  in  the  flesh,'  said  the 
steward.  'Men  call  me  Honest  Joe  and  Trusty  Tomkins.' 

'If  thou  hast  deserved  such  names,  considering  what 
trade  thou  hast  driven,  thou  art  a  jewel  indeed,'  said  the 
knight;  'yet  if  thou  hast  not,  never  blush  for  the  matter, 
Joseph,  for  if  thou  art  not  in  truth  honest,  thou  hast  all 
the  better  chance  to  keep  the  fame  of  it:  the  title  and 
the  thing  itself  have  long  walked  separate  ways.  Fare- 
well to  thee  —  and  farewell  to  fair  Woodstock ! ' 

So  sajdng,  the  old  knight  turned  round,  and  pulling 
his  daughter's  arm  through  his  own,  they  walked  on- 
ward into  the  forest,  in  the  same  manner  in  which  they 
were  introduced  to  the  reader. 


CHAPTER  III 

Now,  ye  wild  blades,  that  make  loose  inns  your  stage, 
To  vapour  forth  the  acts  of  this  sad  age, 
Stout  Edgehiii  fight,  the  Newberries  and  the  West, 
And  northern  clashes,  where  you  still  fought  best. 
Your  strange  escapes,  your  dangers  void  of  fear, 
When  bullets  flew  between  the  head  and  ear. 
Whether  you  fought  by  Damme  or  the  Spirit, 
Of  you  I  speak. 

Legend  of  Captain  Jones. 

Joseph  Tomkins  and  Joliffe  the  keeper  remained  foi 
some  time  in  silence,  as  they  stood  together  looking 
along  the  path  in  which  the  figures  of  the  knight  of 
Ditchley  and  pretty  Mistress  Alice  had  disappeared  be- 
hind the  trees.  They  then  gazed  on  each  other  in  doubt, 
as  men  who  scarce  knew  whether  they  stood  on  hostile 
or  on  friendly  terms  together,  and  were  at  a  loss  how  to 
open  a  conversation.  They  heard  the  knight's  whistle 
summon  Bevis;  but  though  the  good  hound  turned  his 
head  and  pricked  his  ears  at  the  sound,  yet  he  did  not 
obey  the  call,  but  continued  to  snuff  around  Joseph 
Tomkins's  cloak. 

'Thou  art  a  rare  one,  I  fear  me,'  said  the  keeper,  look- 
ing to  his  new  acquaintance.  *I  have  heard  of  men  who 
have  charms  to  steal  both  dogs  and  deer.' 

'Trouble  not  thyself  about  my  qualities,  friend,'  said 
Joseph  Tomkins,  'but  bethink  thee  of  doing  thy  master's 
bidding.' 

Joceline  did  not  immediately  answer,  but  at  length,  as 
if  in  sign  of  truce,  stuck  the  end  of  his  quarterstaff  up- 
right in  the  ground,  and  leant  upon  it,  as  he  said  grufifly, 

39 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'So,  my  tough  old  knight  and  you  were  at  drawn  bilbo, 
by  way  of  afternoon  service,  sir  preacher.  Well  for  you 
I  came  not  up  till  the  blades  were  done  jingling,  or  I  had 
rung  even-song  upon  your  pate.' 

The  Independent  smiled  grimly  as  he  replied,  '  Nay, 
friend,  it  is  well  for  thyself,  for  never  should  sexton  have 
been  better  paid  for  the  knell  he  tolled.  Nevertheless, 
why  should  there  be  war  betwixt  us,  or  my  hand  be 
against  thine?  Thou  art  but  a  poor  knave,  doing  thy 
master's  order,  nor  have  I  any  desire  that  my  own  blood 
or  thine  should  be  shed  touching  this  matter.  Thou  art, 
I  imderstand,  to  give  me  peaceful  possession  of  the 
Palace  of  Woodstock,  so  called;  though  there  is  now  no 
palace  in  England,  no,  nor  shall  be  in  the  days  that 
come  after,  until  we  shall  enter  the  palace  of  the  New 
Jerusalem,  and  the  reign  of  the  saints  shall  commence 
on  earth.' 

'Pretty  well  begun  already,  friend  Tomkins,'  said  the 
keeper:  'you  are  little  short  of  being  kings  already  upon 
the  matter  as  it  now  stands;  and  for  your  Jerusalem  I 
wot  no,  but  Woodstock  is  a  pretty  nest-egg  to  begin  with. 
Well,  will  you  shog  —  will  you  on  —  will  you  take  sasine 
and  livery?  You  heard  my  orders.' 

'  Umph  —  I  know  not,'  said  Tomkins.  ' I  must  beware 
of  ambuscades,  and  I  am  alone  here.  Moreover,  it  is  the 
High  Thanksgiving  appointed  by  Parhament,  and  owned 
to  by  the  army;  also  the  old  man  and  the  young  wo- 
man may  want  to  recover  some  of  their  clothes  and  per- 
sonal property,  and  I  would  not  that  they  were  baulked 
on  my  account.  Wherefore,  if  thou  wilt  deHver  me  pos- 
session to-morrow  morning,  it  shall  be  done  in  personal 
presence  of  my  own  followers,  and  of  the  Presbyterian 

40 


WOODSTOCK 

man  the  Mayor,  so  that  the  transfer  may  be  made  before 
witnesses;  whereas,  were  there  none  with  us  but  thou  to 
deliver  and  I  to  take  possession,  the  men  of  Belial  might 
say,  "  Go  to.  Trusty  Tomkins  hath  been  an  Edomite  — 
Honest  Joe  hath  been  as  an  IshmaeKte,  rising  up  early 
and  dividing  the  spoil  with  them  that  served  the  Man  — • 
yea,  they  that  wore  beards  and  green  jerkins,  as  in  re- 
membrance of  the  Man  and  of  his  government.'" 

Joceline  fixed  his  keen  dark  eyes  upon  the  soldier  as 
he  spoke,  as  if  in  design  to  discover  whether  there  was 
fair  play  in  his  mind  or  not.  He  then  applied  his  five 
fingers  to  scratch  a  large  shock  head  of  hair,  as  if  that 
operation  was  necessary  to  enable  him  to  come  to  a 
conclusion.  'This  is  all  fair  sounding,  brother,'  said  he; 
'but  I  tell  you  plainly,  there  are  some  silver  mugs,  and 
platters,  and  flagons,  and  so  forth,  in  yonder  house,  which 
have  survived  the  general  sweep  that  sent  all  our  plate  to 
the  smelting-pot,  to  put  our  knight's  troop  on  horseback. 
Now,  if  thou  takest  not  these  off  my  hand,  I  may  come 
to  trouble,  since  it  may  be  thought  I  have  minished  their 
numbers.  Whereas,  I  being  as  honest  a  fellow  — ' 

'As  ever  stole  venison,'  said  Tomkins;  'nay,  I  do  owe 
thee  an  interruption.' 

'  Go  to,  then,'  replied  the  keeper;  'if  a  stag  may  have 
come  to  mischance  in  my  walk,  it  was  no  way  in  the 
course  of  dishonesty,  but  merely  to  keep  my  old  dame's 
pan  from  rusting;  but  for  silver  porringers,  tankards, 
and  such-like,  I  would  as  soon  have  drunk  the  melted 
silver  as  stolen  the  vessel  made  out  of  it.  So  that  I  would 
not  wish  blame  or  suspicion  fell  on  me  in  this  matter. 
And  therefore,  if  you  will  have  the  things  rendered  even 
now  —  why  so;  and  if  not,  hold  me  blameless.' 

41 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'Ay,  truly?'  said  Tomkins;  'and  who  is  to  hold  me 
blameless,  if  they  should  see  cause  to  think  anything 
minished?  Not  the  right  worshipful  Commissioners,  to 
whom  the  property  of  the  estate  is  as  their  own;  there- 
fore, as  thou  say'st,  we  must  walk  warily  in  the  matter. 
To  lock  up  the  house  and  leave  it  were  but  the  work  of 
simple  ones.  What  say'st  thou  to  spend  the  night  there, 
and  then  nothing  can  be  touched  without  the  knowledge 
of  us  both?' 

*Why,  concerning  that,'  answered  the  keeper,  *I 
should  be  at  my  hut  to  make  matters  somewhat  con- 
formable for  the  old  knight  and  Mistress  Alice,  for  my 
old  dame  Joan  is  something  dunny,  and  will  scarce  know 
how  to  manage;  and  yet,  to  speak  the  truth,  by  the  mass, 
I  would  rather  not  see  Sir  Henry  to-night,  since  what  has 
happened  to-day  hath  roused  his  spleen,  and  it  is  a  per- 
adventure  he  may  have  met  something  at  the  hut  which 
will  scarce  tend  to  cool  it.' 

'It  is  a  pity,'  said  Tomkins,  'that,  being  a  gentleman 
of  such  grave  and  goodly  presence,  he  should  be  such  a 
malignant  Cavalier,  and  that  he  should,  like  the  rest  of 
that  generation  of  vipers,  have  clothed  himself  with 
curses  as  with  a  garment.' 

'Which  is  as  much  as  to  say,  the  tough  old  knight 
hath  a  habit  of  swearing,'  said  the  keeper,  grinning  at 
a  pun  which  has  been  repeated  since  his  time;  'but 
who  can  help  it?  it  comes  of  use  and  wont.  Were  you 
now,  in  your  bodily  self,  to  Hght  suddenly  on  a  Maypole, 
with  all  the  blythe  morris-dancers  prancing  around  it 
to  the  merry  pipe  and  tabor,  with  bells  jingling,  ribands 
fluttering,  lads  frisking  and  laughing,  lasses  leaping  till 
you  might  see  where  the  scarlet  garter  fastened  the  light- 

42 


WOODSTOCK 

blue  hose,  I  think  some  feeling,  resembling  either  natural 
sociality  or  old  use  and  wont,  would  get  the  better, 
friend,  even  of  thy  gravity,  and  thou  wouldst  fling  thy 
cuckoldy  steeple-hat  one  way  and  that  bloodthirsty  long 
sword  another,  and  trip  like  the  noodles  of  Hogs-Norton 
when  the  pigs  play  on  the  organ.' 

The  Independent  turned  fiercely  round  on  the  keeper 
and  replied,  'How  now,  Mr.  Green  Jerkin,  what  lan- 
guage is  this  to  one  whose  hand  is  at  the  plough?  I  ad- 
vise thee  to  put  curb  on  thy  tongue,  lest  thy  ribs  pay  the 
forfeit.' 

'Nay,  do  not  take  the  high  tone  with  me,  brother,* 
answered  Joceline;  'remember  thou  hast  not  the  old 
knight  of  sixty-five  to  deal  with,  but  a  fellow  as  bitter 
and  prompt  as  thyself  —  it  may  be  a  Httle  more  so 
—  younger,  at  all  events;  and  prithee,  why  shouldst 
thou  take  such  umbrage  at  a  Maypole?  I  would  thou 
hadst  known  one  Phil  Hazeldine  of  these  parts.  He  was 
the  best  morris-dancer  betwixt  Oxford  and  Burford.' 

'The  more  shame  to  him,'  answered  the  Independent; 
*and  I  trust  he  has  seen  the  error  of  his  ways,  and  made 
himself  (if  as,  a  man  of  action,  he  easily  might)  fit  for 
better  company  than  wood-hunters,  deer-stealers,  Maid 
Marions,  swashbucklers,  deboshed  revellers,  bloody 
brawlers,  maskers  and  mummers,  lewd  men  and  light 
women,  fools  and  fiddlers,  and  carnal  self-pleasers  of 
every  description.' 

'Well,'  repHed  the  keeper,  'you  are  out  of  breath  in 
time;  for  here  we  stand  before  the  famous  Maypole  of 
Woodstock.' 

They  paused  in  an  open  space  of  meadow-land,  beau- 
tifully skirted  by  large  oaks  and  sycamores,  one  of  which, 

43 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

as  king  of  the  forest,  stood  a  little  detached  from  the 
rest,  as  if  scorning  the  vicinity  of  any  rival.  It  was 
scathed  and  gnarled  in  the  branches,  but  the  immense 
trunk  still  showed  to  what  gigantic  size  the  monarch  of 
the  forest  can  attain  in  the  groves  of  Merry  England. 

'That  is  called  the  King's  Oak,'  said  Joceline;  'the 
oldest  men  of  Woodstock  know  not  how  old  it  is :  they 
say  Henry  used  to  sit  under  it  with  Fair  Rosamond,  and 
see  the  lasses  dance,  and  the  lads  of  the  village  run 
races,  and  wrestle  for  belts  or  bonnets.' 

'I  nothing  doubt  it,  friend,'  said  Tomkins:  'a  tyrant 
and  a  harlot  were  fitting  patron  and  patroness  for  such 
vanities.' 

'Thou  mayst  say  thy  say,  friend,'  replied  the  keeper, 
'  so  thou  lettest  me  say  mine.  There  stands  the  Maypole, 
as  thou  seest,  half  a  flight-shot  from  the  King's  Oak,  in 
the  midst  of  the  meadow.  The  King  gave  ten  shillings 
from  the  customs  of  Woodstock  to  make  a  new  one 
yearly,  besides  a  tree  fitted  for  the  purpose  out  of  the 
forest.  Now  it  is  warped,  and  withered  and  twisted,  Uke 
a  wasted  brier-rod.  The  green,  too,  used  to  be  close- 
shaved,  and  rolled  till  it  was  smooth  as  a  velvet  mantle; 
now  it  is  rough  and  overgrown.' 

'Well  —  well,  friend  Joceline,'  said  the  Independent, 
'  but  where  was  the  edification  of  all  this?  What  use  of 
doctrine  could  be  derived  from  a  pipe  and  tabor;  or  was 
there  ever  aught  Hke  wisdom  in  a  bagpipe? ' 

'You  may  ask  better  scholars  that,'  said  Joceline; 
'but  methinks  men  cannot  be  always  grave,  and  with 
the  hat  over  their  brow.  A  young  maiden  will  laugh  as  a 
tender  flower  will  blow  —  ay,  and  a  lad  will  like  her  the 
better  for  it:  just  as  the  same  blythe  spring  that  makes 

44 


WOODSTOCK 

the  young  birds  whistle  bids  the  blythe  fawns  skip. 
There  have  come  worse  days  since  the  jolly  old  times 
have  gone  by.  I  tell  thee,  that  in  the  holydays  which 
you,  Mr.  Long-sword,  have  put  down,  I  have  seen  this 
greensward  alive  with  merry  maidens  and  manly  fellows. 
The  good  old  rector  himself  thought  it  was  no  sin  to 
come  for  a  while  and  look  on,  and  his  goodly  cassock  and 
scarf  kept  us  all  in  good  order,  and  taught  us  to  limit  our 
mirth  within  the  bounds  of  discretion.  We  might,  it  may 
be,  crack  a  broad  jest,  or  pledge  a  friendly  cup  a  turn  too 
often,  but  it  was  in  mirth  and  good  neighbourhood.  Ay, 
and  if  there  was  a  bout  at  singlestick,  or  a  bellyful  of 
boxing,  it  was  all  for  love  and  kindness ;  and  better  a  few 
dry  blows  in  drink  than  the  bloody  doings  we  have  had 
in  sober  earnest,  since  the  presbyter's  cap  got  above  the 
bishop's  mitre,  and  we  exchanged  our  goodly  rectors 
and  learned  doctors,  whose  sermons  were  all  bolstered 
up  with  as  much  Greek  and  Latin  as  might  have  con- 
founded the  devil  himself,  for  weavers  and  cobblers,  and 
such  other  pulpit  volunteers  as  —  as  we  heard  this 
morning.  It  will  out.' 

'Well,  friend,'  said  the  Independent,  with  patience 
scarcely  to  have  been  expected,  'I  quarrel  not  with  thee 
for  nauseating  my  doctrine.  If  thine  ear  is  so  much 
tickled  with  tabor  tunes  and  morris-tripping,  truly  it  is 
not  likely  thou  shouldst  find  pleasant  savour  in  more 
wholesome  and  sober  food.  But  let  us  to  the  lodge,  that 
we  may  go  about  our  business  there  before  the  sun  sets.' 

'Troth,  and  that  may  be  advisable  for  more  reasons 
than  one,'  said  the  keeper;  'for  there  have  been  tales 
about  the  lodge  which  have  made  men  afeard  to  harbour 
there  after  nightfall.' 

45 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'Were  not  yon  old  knight  and  yonder  damsel,  his 
daughter,  wont  to  dwell  there?'  said  the  Independent. 
*My  information  said  so.' 

*Ay,  truly,  did  they,'  said  Joceline;  'and  while  they 
kept  a  jolly  household,  all  went  well  enough;  for  nothing 
banishes  fear  Hke  good  ale.  But  after  the  best  of  our  men 
went  to  the  wars,  and  were  slain  at  Naseby  fight,  they 
who  were  left  found  the  lodge  more  lonesome,  and 
the  old  knight  has  been  much  deserted  of  his  servants: 
marry,  it  might  be,  that  he  has  lacked  silver  of  late  to  pay 
groom  and  lackey.' 

*  A  potential  reason  for  the  diminution  of  a  household,' 
said  the  soldier. 

'Right,  sir,  even  so,'  replied  the  keeper.  *  They  spoke 
of  steps  in  the  great  gallery,  heard  by  dead  of  the  night, 
and  voices  that  whispered  at  noon  in  the  matted  cham- 
bers ;  and  the  servants  pretended  that  these  things  scared 
them  away;  but,  in  my  poor  judgment,  when  Martin- 
mas and  Whitsuntide  came  round  without  a  penny-fee, 
the  old  blue-bottles  of  serving-men  began  to  think  of 
creeping  elsewhere  before  the  frost  chilled  them.  No 
devil  so  frightful  as  that  which  dances  in  the  pocket 
where  there  is  no  cross  to  keep  him  out.' 

'You  were  reduced,  then,  to  a  petty  household?'  said 
the  Independent. 

'  Ay,  marry,  were  we,'  said  Joceline ; '  but  we  kept  some 
half -score  together,  what  with  blue-bottles  in  the  lodge, 
what  with  green  caterpillars  of  the  chase,  like  him  who 
is  yours  to  command :  we  stuck  together  till  we  found  a 
call  to  take  a  morning's  ride  somewhere  or  other.' 

'  To  the  town  of  Worcester,'  said  the  soldier,  *  where  you 
were  crushed  like  vermin  and  palmer- worms,  as  you  are? ' 

46 


WOODSTOCK 

'You  may  say  your  pleasure,'  replied  the  keeper:  'I'll 
never  contradict  a  man  who  has  got  my  head  under  his 
belt.  Our  backs  are  at  the  wall,  or  you  would  not  be 
here.' 

'Nay,  friend,'  said  the  Independent,  'thou  riskest  no- 
thing by  thy  freedom  and  trust  in  me.  I  can  be  bon 
camarado  to  a  good  soldier,  although  I  have  striven  with 
him  even  to  the  going  down  of  the  sun.  But  here  we  are 
in  front  of  the  lodge.' 

They  stood  accordingly  in  front  of  the  old  Gothic 
building,  irregularly  constructed,  and  at  different  times, 
as  the  humour  of  the  old  EngHsh  monarchs  led  them  to 
taste  the  pleasures  of  Woodstock  Chase,  and  to  make 
such  improvements  for  their  own  accommodation  as  the 
increasing  luxury  of  each  age  required.  The  oldest  part 
of  the  structure  had  been  named  by  tradition  Fair  Rosa- 
mond's Tower;  it  was  a  small  turret  of  great  height,  with 
narrow  windows,  and  walls  of  massive  thickness.  The 
tower  had  no  opening  to  the  ground,  or  means  of  descend- 
ing, a  great  part  of  the  lower  portion  being  solid  mason- 
work.  It  was  traditionally  said  to  have  been  accessible 
only  by  a  sort  of  small  drawbridge,  which  might  be 
dropped  at  pleasure  from  a  little  portal  near  the  summit 
of  the  turret  to  the  battlements  of  another  tower  of  the 
same  construction,  but  twenty  feet  lower,  and  contain- 
ing only  a  winding  staircase,  called  in  Woodstock  Love's 
Ladder;  because  it  is  said  that,  by  ascending  this  stair- 
case to  the  top  of  the  tower,  and  then  making  use  of  the 
drawbridge,  Henry  obtained  access  to  the  chamber  of 
his  paramour. 

This  tradition  had  been  keenly  impugned  by  Dr. 
Rochecliffe,  the  former  rector  of  Woodstock,  who  in- 

47 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

sisted  that  what  was  called  Rosamond's  Tower  was 
merely  an  interior  keep,  or  citadel,  to  which  the  lord  or 
warden  of  the  castle  might  retreat  when  other  points  of 
safety  failed  him,  and  either  protract  his  defence  or,  at 
the  worst,  stipulate  for  reasonable  terms  of  surrender. 
The  people  of  Woodstock,  jealous  of  their  ancient  tra- 
ditions, did  not  rehsh  this  new  mode  of  explaining  them 
away;  and  it  is  even  said  that  the  Mayor,  whom  we  have 
already  introduced,  became  Presbyterian  in  revenge  of 
the  doubts  cast  by  the  rector  upon  this  important  sub- 
ject, rather  choosing  to  give  up  the  liturgy  than  his  fixed 
belief  in  Rosamond's  Tower  and  Love's  Ladder. 

The  rest  of  the  lodge  was  of  considerable  extent,  and 
of  different  ages,  comprehending  a  nest  of  little  courts, 
surrounded  by  buildings  which  corresponded  with  each 
other,  sometimes  within  doors,  sometimes  by  crossing 
the  courts,  and  frequently  in  both  ways.  The  different 
heights  of  the  buildings  announced  that  they  could  only 
be  connected  by  the  usual  variety  of  staircases,  which 
exercised  the  limbs  of  our  ancestors  in  the  sixteenth  and 
earlier  centuries,  and  seem  sometimes  to  have  been 
contrived  for  no  other  purpose. 

The  varied  and  multiplied  fronts  of  this  irregular 
building  were,  as  Dr.  Rochecliffe  was  wont  to  say,  an  ab- 
solute banquet  to  the  architectural  antiquary,  as  they 
certainly  contained  specimens  of  every  style  which  ex- 
isted, from  the  pure  Norman  of  Henry  of  Anjou  down 
to  the  composite,  half-Gothic,  half-classical  architecture 
of  Elizabeth  and  her  successor.  Accordingly,  the  rector 
was  himself  as  much  enamoured  of  Woodstock  as  ever 
was  Henry  of  Fair  Rosamond;  and  as  his  intimacy  with 
Sir  Henr}^  Lee  permitted  him  entrance  at  all  times  to  the 

48 


WOODSTOCK 

royal  lodge,  he  used  to  spend  whole  days  in  wandering 
about  the  antique  apartments,  examining,  measuring, 
studying,  and  finding  out  excellent  reasons  for  architect- 
ural peculiarities,  which  probably  only  owed  their  ex- 
istence to  the  freakish  fancy  of  a  Gothic  artist.  But  the 
old  antiquarian  had  been  expelled  from  his  living  by  the 
intolerance  and  troubles  of  the  times,  and  his  successor, 
Nehemiah  Holdenough,  would  have  considered  an  elab- 
orate investigation  of  the  profane  sculpture  and  archi- 
tecture of  blinded  and  bloodthirsty  Papists,  together 
with  the  history  of  the  dissolute  amours  of  old  Norman 
monarchs,  as  little  better  than  a  bowing  down  before  the 
calves  of  Bethel,  and  a  drinking  of  the  cup  of  abomina- 
tions. 

We  return  to  the  course  of  our  story. 

'There  is,'  said  the  Independent  Tomkins,  after  he 
had  carefully  perused  the  front  of  the  building,  'many  a 
rare  monument  of  olden  wickedness  about  this  miscalled 
royal  lodge;  verily,  I  shall  rejoice  much  to  see  the  same 
destroyed,  yea,  burned  to  ashes,  and  the  ashes  thrown 
into  the  brook  Kedron,  or  any  other  brook,  that  the 
land  may  be  cleansed  from  the  memory  thereof,  neither 
remember  the  iniquity  with  which  their  fathers  have 
sinned.' 

The  keeper  heard  him  with  secret  indignation,  and 
began  to  consider  with  himself  whether,  as  they  stood 
but  one  to  one,  and  without  chance  of  speedy  interfer- 
ence, he  was  not  called  upon,  by  his  official  duty,  to  cas- 
tigate the  rebel  who  used  language  so  defamatory.  But 
he  fortunately  recollected  that  the  strife  must  be  a  doubt- 
ful one,  that  the  advantage  of  arms  was  against  him, 
and,  that,  in  especial,  even  if  he  should  succeed  in  the 

37  49 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

combat,  it  would  be  at  the  risk  of  severe  retaliation.  It 
must  be  owned,  too,  that  there  was  something  about  the 
Independent  so  dark  and  mysterious,  so  grim  and  grave, 
that  the  more  open  spirit  of  the  keeper  felt  oppressed, 
and,  if  not  overawed,  at  least  kept  in  doubt  concerning 
him;  and  he  thought  it  wisest,  as  well  as  safest,  for  his 
master  and  himself,  to  avoid  all  subjects  of  dispute,  and 
know  better  with  whom  he  was  dealing  before  he  made 
either  friend  or  enemy  of  him. 

The  great  gate  of  the  lodge  was  strongly  bolted, 
but  the  wicket  opened  on  Joceline's  raising  the  latch. 
There  was  a  short  passage  of  ten  feet,  which  had  been 
formerly  closed  by  a  portcullis  at  the  inner  end,  while 
three  loopholes  opened  on  either  side,  through  which 
any  daring  intruder  might  be  annoyed,  who,  having  sur- 
prised the  first  gate,  must  be  thus  exposed  to  a  severe 
fire  before  he  could  force  the  second.  But  the  machinery 
of  the  portcullis  was  damaged,  and  it  now  remained  a 
fixture,  brandishing  its  jaw,  well  furnished  with  iron 
fangs,  but  incapable  of  dropping  it  across  the  path  of 
invasion. 

The  way,  therefore,  lay  open  to  the  great  hall  or  outer 
vestibule  of  the  lodge.  One  end  of  this  long  and  dusky 
apartment  was  entirely  occupied  by  a  gallery,  which  had 
in  ancient  times  served  to  accommodate  the  musicians 
and  minstrels.  There  was  a  clumsy  staircase  at  either 
side  of  it,  composed  of  entire  logs  of  a  foot  square;  and 
in  each  angle  of  the  ascent  was  placed,  by  way  of  senti- 
nel, the  figure  of  a  Norman  foot-soldier,  having  an  open 
casque  on  his  head,  which  displayed  features  as  stern  as 
the  painter's  genius  could  devise.  Their  arms  were  buff- 
jackets  or  shirts  of  mail,  round  bucklers,  with  spikes  in 

50 


WOODSTOCK 

the  centre,  and  buskins  which  adorned  and  defended  the 
feet  and  ankles,  but  left  the  knees  bare.  These  wooden 
warders  held  great  swords,  or  maces,  in  their  hands,  like 
military  guards  on  duty.  Many  an  empty  hook  and 
brace,  along  the  walls  of  the  gloomy  apartment,  marked 
the  spots  from  which  arms,  long  preserved  as  trophies, 
had  been,  in  the  pressure  of  the  war,  once  more  taken 
down  to  do  service  in  the  field,  like  veterans  whom  ex- 
tremity of  danger  recalls  to  battle.  On  other  rusty  fast- 
enings were  still  displayed  the  hunting  trophies  of  the 
monarchs  to  whom  the  lodge  belonged,  and  of  the  silvan 
knights  to  whose  care  it  had  been  from  time  to  time 
confided. 

At  the  nether  end  of  the  hall,  a  huge,  heavy,  stone- 
wrought  chimney-piece  projected  itself  ten  feet  from  the 
wall,  adorned  with  many  a  cipher  and  many  a  scutcheon 
of  the  royal  house  of  England.  In  its  present  state,  it 
yawned  like  the  arched  mouth  of  a  funeral  vault,  or 
perhaps  might  be  compared  to  the  crater  of  an  extin- 
guished volcano.  But  the  sable  complexion  of  the  mass- 
ive stonework,  and  all  around  it,  showed  that  the  time 
had  been  when  it  sent  its  huge  fires  blazing  up  the  huge 
chimney,  besides  puffing  many  a  volume  of  smoke  over 
the  heads  of  the  jovial  guests,  whose  royalty  or  nobility 
did  not  render  them  sensitive  enough  to  quarrel  with 
such  slight  inconvenience.  On  these  occasions,  it  was 
the  tradition  of  the  house,  that  two  cart-loads  of  wood 
was  the  regular  allowance  for  the  fire  between  noon  and 
curfew,  and  the  andirons,  or  dogs,  as  they  were  termed, 
constructed  for  retaining  the  blazing  firewood  on  the 
hearth,  were  wrought  in  the  shape  of  Hons  of  such  gigan- 
tic size  as  might  well  warrant  the  legend.   There  were 

51 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

long  seats  of  stone  within  the  chimney,  where,  in  despite 
of  the  tremendous  heat,  monarchs  were  sometimes  said 
to  have  taken  their  station,  and  amused  themselves  with 
broiling  the  umbles,  or  dowsets,  of  the  deer  upon  the 
glowing  embers,  with  their  own  royal  hands,  when 
happy  the  courtier  who  was  invited  to  taste  the  royal 
cookery.  Tradition  was  here  also  ready  with  her  record, 
to  show  what  merry  gibes,  such  as  might  be  exchanged 
between  prince  and  peer,  had  flown  about  at  the  jolly 
banquet  which  followed  the  Michaelmas  hunt.  She 
could  tell,  too,  exactly,  where  King  Stephen  sat  when 
he  darned  his  own  princely  hose,  and  knew  most  of  the 
odd  tricks  he  had  put  upon  little  Winkin,  the  tailor  of 
Woodstock. 

Most  of  this  rude  revelry  belonged  to  the  Plantagenet 
times.  When  the  house  of  Tudor  acceded  to  the  throne, 
they  were  more  chary  of  their  royal  presence,  and  feasted 
in  halls  and  chambers  far  within,  abandoning  the  out- 
most hall  to  the  yeomen  of  the  guard,  who  mounted 
their  watch  there,  and  passed  away  the  night  with  was- 
sail and  mirth,  exchanged  sometimes  for  frightful  tales 
of  apparitions  and  sorceries,  which  made  some  of  those 
grow  pale  in  whose  ears  the  trumpet  of  a  French  foeman 
would  have  sounded  as  jollily  as  a  summons  to  the  wood- 
land chase. 

Joceline  pointed  out  the  peculiarities  of  the  place  to  his 
gloomy  companion  more  briefly  than  we  have  detailed 
them  to  the  reader. 

The  Independent  seemed  to  listen  with  some  interest 
at  first,  but,  flinging  it  suddenly  aside,  he  said,  in  a  sol- 
emn tone,  'Perish,  Babylon,  as  thy  master  Nebuchad- 
nezzar hath  perished!  He  is  a  wanderer,  and  thou  shalt 

52 


WOODSTOCK 

be  a  waste  place  —  yea,  and  a  wilderness  —  yea,  a 
desert  of  salt,  in  which  there  shall  be  thirst  and  famine.' 

'  There  is  like  to  be  enough  of  both  to-night,'  said  Joce- 
line,  'unless  the  good  knight's  larder  be  somewhat  fuller 
than  it  is  wont.' 

'We  must  care  for  the  creature-comforts,'  said  the 
Independent,  'but  in  due  season,  when  our  duties  are 
done.  Whither  lead  these  entrances? ' 

'That  to  the  right,'  replied  the  keeper,  'leads  to  what 
are  called  the  state-apartments,  not  used  since  the  year 
1639,  when  his  blessed  Majesty  — ' 

*  How,  sir ! '  interrupted  the  Independent,  in  a  voice  of 
thunder, '  dost  thou  speak  of  Charles  Stuart  as  blessing, 
or  blessed?  Beware  the  proclamation  to  that  effect.' 

'I  meant  no  harm,'  answered  the  keeper,  suppressing 
his  disposition  to  make  a  harsher  reply.  '  My  business  is 
with  bolts  and  bucks,  not  with  titles  and  state  affairs. 
But  yet,  whatever  may  have  happed  since,  that  poor 
king  was  followed  with  blessings  enough  from  Wood- 
stock; for  he  left  a  glove  full  of  broad  pieces  for  the  poor 
of  the  place — ' 

'Peace,  friend,'  said  the  Independent;  'I  will  think 
thee  else  one  of  those  besotted  and  blinded  Papists  who 
hold  that  bestowing  of  alms  is  an  atonement  and  wash- 
ing away  of  the  wrongs  and  oppressions  which  have  been 
wrought  by  the  almsgiver.  Thou  sayest,  then,  these 
were  the  apartments  of  Charles  Stuart?' 

'  And  of  his  father,  James,  before  him,  and  EHzabeth, 
before  him,  and  bluff  King  Henry,  who  builded  that 
wing,  before  them  all.' 

'And  there,  I  suppose,  the  knight  and  his  daughter 
dwelt?' 

53 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'No,'  replied  Joceline;  'Sir  Henry  Lee  had  too  much 
reverence  for  —  for  things  which  are  now  thought  worth 
no  reverence  at  all.  Besides,  the  state-rooms  are  unaired 
and  in  indifferent  order  since  of  late  years.  The  knight 
ranger's  apartment  lies  by  that  passage  to  the  left.' 

'And  whither  goes  yonder  stair,  which  seems  both 
to  lead  upwards  and  downwards? ' 

'  Upwards/  repHed  the  keeper,  *it  leads  to  many  apart- 
ments, used  for  various  purposes,  of  sleeping  and  other 
accommodation.  Downwards,  to  the  kitchen,  offices, 
and  vaults  of  the  castle,  which,  at  this  time  of  the  even- 
ing, you  cannot  see  without  lights.' 

'We  will  to  the  apartments  of  your  knight,  then,' 
said  the  Independent.  '  Is  there  fitting  accommodation 
there  ? ' 

'Such  as  has  served  a  person  of  condition,  whose 
lodging  is  now  worse  appointed,'  answered  the  honest 
keeper,  his  bile  rising  so  fast  that  he  added,  in  a  mutter- 
ing and  inaudible  tone,  'So  it  may  well  serve  a  crop- 
eared  knave  like  thee.' 

He  acted  as  the  usher,  however,  and  led  on  towards 
the  ranger's  apartments. 

This  suite  opened  by  a  short  passage  from  the  hall, 
secured  at  time  of  need  by  two  oaken  doors,  which  could 
be  fastened  by  large  bars  of  the  same,  that  were  drawn 
out  of  the  wall,  and  entered  into  square  holes,  contrived 
for  their  reception  on  the  other  side  of  the  portal.  At 
the  end  of  this  passage,  a  small  anteroom  received  them, 
into  which  opened  the  sitting-apartment  of  the  good 
knight,  which,  in  the  style  of  the  times,  might  have  been 
termed  a  fair  summer  parlour,  lighted  by  two  oriel  win- 
dows, so  placed  as  to  command  each  of  them  a  separate 

54 


WOODSTOCK 

avenue,  leading  distant  and  deep  into  the  forest.  The 
principal  ornament  of  the  apartment,  besides  two  or 
three  family  portraits  of  less  interest,  was  a  tall  full- 
length  picture  that  hung  above  the  chimney-piece, 
which,  like  that  in  the  hall,  was  of  heavy  stonework, 
ornamented  with  carved  scutcheons,  emblazoned  with 
various  devices.  The  portrait  was  that  of  a  man  about 
fifty  years  of  age,  in  complete  plate  armour,  and  painted 
in  the  harsh  and  dry  manner  of  Holbein,  probably,  in- 
deed, the  work  of  that  artist,  as  the  dates  corresponded. 
The  formal  and  marked  angles,  points,  and  projections 
of  the  armour  were  a  good  subject  for  the  harsh  pencil  of 
that  early  school.  The  face  of  the  knight  was,  from  the 
fading  of  the  colours,  pale  and  dim,  like  that  of  some 
being  from  the  other  world,  yet  the  lines  expressed  for- 
cibly pride  and  exultation. 

He  pointed  with  his  leading-staff,  or  tnmcheon,  to  the 
background,  where,  in  such  perspective  as  the  artist 
possessed,  were  depicted  the  remains  of  a  burning  church, 
or  monastery,  and  four  or  five  soldiers,  in  red  cassocks, 
bearing  away  in  triumph  what  seemed  a  brazen  font  or 
laver.  Above  their  heads  might  be  traced  in  scroll, '  Lee 
Victor  sic  voluiL'  Right  opposite  to  the  picture  hung, 
in  a  niche  in  the  wall,  a  complete  set  of  tilting-armour, 
the  black  and  gold  colours  and  ornaments  of  which 
exactly  corresponded  with  those  exhibited  in  the  por- 
trait. 

The  picture  was  one  of  those  which,  from  something 
marked  in  the  features  and  expression,  attract  the  ob- 
servation even  of  those  who  are  ignorant  of  art.  The 
Independent  looked  at  it  until  a  smile  passed  transiently 
over  his  clouded  brow.   Whether  he  smiled  to  see  the 

55 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

grim  old  cavalier  employed  in  desecrating  a  religious 
house  (an  occupation  much  conforming  to  the  practice 
of  his  own  sect),  whether  he  smiled  in  contempt  of  the 
old  painter's  harsh  and  dry  mode  of  working,  or  whether 
the  sight  of  this  remarkable  portrait  revived  some  other 
ideas,  the  under-keeper  could  not  decide. 

The  smile  passed  away  in  an  instant,  as  the  soldier 
looked  to  the  oriel  windows.  The  recesses  within  them 
were  raised  a  step  or  two  from  the  wall.  In  one  was 
placed  a  walnut-tree  reading-desk,  and  a  huge  stuffed 
arm-chair,  covered  with  Spanish  leather.  A  little  cabi- 
net stood  beside,  with  some  of  its  shuttles  and  drawers 
open,  displaying  hawks'-bells,  dog-whistles,  instruments 
for  trimming  falcon's  feathers,  bridle-bits  of  various 
constructions,  and  other  trifles  connected  with  silvan 
sport. 

The  other  little  recess  was  differently  furnished. 
There  lay  some  articles  of  needlework  on  a  small  table, 
besides  a  lute,  with  a  book  having  some  airs  written 
down  in  it,  and  a  frame  for  working  embroidery.  Some 
tapestry  was  displayed  around  the  recess,  with  more 
attention  to  ornament  than  was  visible  in  the  rest  of  the 
apartment;  the  arrangement  of  a  few  bow-pots,  with 
such  flowers  as  the  fading  season  afforded,  showed  also 
the  superintendence  of  female  taste. 

Tomkins  cast  an  eye  of  careless  regard  upon  these  sub- 
jects of  female  occupation,  then  stepped  into  the  farther 
window,  and  began  to  turn  the  leaves  of  a  folio  which  lay 
open  on  the  reading-desk,  apparently  with  some  inter- 
est. Joceline,  who  had  determined  to  watch  his  motions 
without  interfering  with  them,  was  standing  at  some 
distance  in  dejected  silence,  when  a  door  behind  the 

56 


WOODSTOCK 

tapestry  suddenly  opened,  and  a  pretty  village  maid 
tripped  out\\ith  a  napkin  in  her  hand,  as  if  she  had  been 
about  some  household  duty. 

'How,  now,  sir  impudence,'  she  said  to  Joceline,  in 
a  smart  tone;  'what  do  you  here,  prowling  about  the 
apartments  when  the  master  is  not  at  home?' 

But,  instead  of  the  answer  which  perhaps  she  ex- 
pected, Joceline  Joliffe  cast  a  mournful  glance  towards 
the  soldier  in  the  oriel  window,  as  if  to  make  what  he 
said  fully  intelligible,  and  replied,  with  a  dejected  ap- 
pearance and  voice,  'Alack,  my  pretty  Phcebe,  there 
come  those  here  that  have  more  right  or  might  than 
any  of  us,  and  will  use  little  ceremony  in  coming  when 
they  will,  and  staying  while  they  please.' 

He  darted  another  glance  at  Tomkins,  who  still 
seemed  busy  with  the  book  before  him,  then  sidled 
close  to  the  astonished  girl,  who  had  continued  looking 
alternately  at  the  keeper  and  at  the  stranger,  as  if  she 
had  been  unable  to  understand  the  words  of  the  first, 
or  to  comprehend  the  meaning  of  the  second  being 
present. 

'Go,'  whispered  Joliffe,  approaching  his  mouth  so 
near  her  cheek  that  his  breath  waved  the  curls  of  her 
hair  —  'go,  my  dearest  Phcebe,  trip  it  as  fast  as  a  fawn 
down  to  my  lodge.  I  will  soon  be  there,  and — ' 

'  Your  lodge,  indeed ! '  said  Phcebe ;  '  you  are  very 
bold,  for  a  poor  kill-buck  that  never  frightened  any- 
thing before  save  a  dun  deer.  Your  lodge,  indeed!  I 
am  like  to  go  there,  I  think.' 

'  Hush  —  hush !  Phcebe :  here  is  no  time  for  jesting. 
Down  to  my  hut,  I  say,  like  a  deer,  for  the  knight  and 
Mrs.  Alice  are  both  there,  and  I  fear  will  not  return 

57 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

hither  again.  All 's  naught,  girl,  and  our  evil  days  are 
come  at  last  with  a  vengeance :  we  are  fairly  at  bay  and 
fairly  hunted  down.' 

'  Can  this  be,  Joceline?'  said  the  poor  girl,  turning  to 
the  keeper  with  an  expression  of  fright  in  her  counte- 
nance, which  she  had  hitherto  averted  in  rural  coquetry. 

*As  sure,  my  dearest  Phoebe,  as  — ' 

The  rest  of  the  asseveration  was  lost  in  Phoebe's  ear, 
so  closely  did  the  keeper's  lips  approach  it;  and  if  they 
approached  so  very  near  as  to  touch  her  cheek,  grief,  like 
impatience,  hath  its  privileges,  and  poor  Phoebe  had 
enough  of  serious  alarm  to  prevent  her  from  demurring 
upon  such  a  trifle. 

But  no  trifle  was  the  approach  of  Joceline's  Hps  to 
Phoebe's  pretty  though  sunburnt  cheek  in  the  estima- 
tion of  the  Independent,  who,  a  little  before  the  object 
of  Joceline's  vigilance,  had  been  more  lately  in  his  turn 
the  observer  of  the  keeper's  demeanour,  so  soon  as  the 
interview  betwixt  Phoebe  and  him  had  become  so  inter- 
esting. And  when  he  remarked  the  closeness  of  Joce- 
line's argument,  he  raised  his  voice  to  a  pitch  of  harsh- 
ness that  would  have  rivalled  that  of  an  ungreased  and 
rusty  saw,  and  which  at  once  made  Joceline  and  Phoebe 
spring  six  feet  apart,  each  in  contrary  directions,  and  if 
Cupid  was  of  the  party,  must  have  sent  him  out  at  the 
window  like  a  wild  duck  flying  from  a  culverin.  In- 
stantly throwing  himself  into  the  attitude  of  a  preacher 
and  a  reprover  of  vice,  'How  now!'  he  exclaimed, 
*  shameless  and  impudent  as  you  are!  What!  chambering 
and  wantoning  in  our  very  presence !  How !  would  you 
play  your  pranks  before  the  steward  of  the  Commission- 
ers of  the  High  Court  of  Parliament,  as  ye  would  in  a 

S8 


WOODSTOCK 

booth  at  the  fulsome  fair,  or  amidst  the  trappings  and 
tracings  of  a  profane  dancing-school,  where  the  scoun- 
drel minstrels  make  their  ungodly  weapons  to  squeak, 
"Kiss  and  be  kind,  the  fiddler's  blind"?  But  here,'  he 
said,  dealing  a  perilous  thump  upon  the  volume  — 
'here  is  the  king  and  high  priest  of  those  vices  and  follies. 
Here  he  is,  whom  men  of  folly  profanely  call  nature's 
miracle.  Here  he  is,  whom  princes  chose  for  their  cabi- 
net-keeper, and  whom  maids  of  honour  take  for  their 
bedfellow.  Here  is  the  prime  teacher  of  fine  words, 
foppery,  and  folly.  Here!  (dealing  another  thump  upon 
the  volume;  and  oh!  revered  of  the  Roxburghe,  it  was 
the  first  folio  —  beloved  of  the  Bannatyne,  it  was 
Hemminge  and  Condell  —  it  was  the  editio  prince ps). 
On  thee,'  he  continued  —  'on  thee,  William  Shakespeare, 
I  charge  whate'er  of  such  lawless  idleness  and  immodest 
folly  hath  defiled  the  land  since  thy  day.' 

*  By  the  mass,  a  heavy  accusation,'  said  Joceline,  the 
bold  recklessness  of  whose  temper  could  not  be  long 
overawed.  *  Odds  pittikins,  is  our  master's  old  favourite, 
Will  of  Stratford,  to  answer  for  every  buss  that  has  been 
snatched  since  James's  time?  A  perilous  reckoning 
truly!  but  I  wonder  who  is  sponsible  for  what  lads  and 
lasses  did  before  his  day? ' 

'Scoff  not,'  said  the  soldier,  'lest  I,  being  called 
thereto  by  the  voice  within  me,  do  deal  with  thee  as  a 
scomer.  Verily  I  say,  that  since  the  devil  fell  from 
Heaven,  he  never  lacked  agents  on  earth;  yet  nowhere 
hath  he  met  with  a  wizard  having  such  infinite  power 
over  men's  souls  as  this  pestilent  fellow  Shakespeare. 
Seeks  a  wife  a  foul  example  for  adultery,  here  she  shall 
find  it.  Would  a  man  know  how  to  train  his  fellow  to  be 

59 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

a  murderer,  here  shall  he  find  tutoring.  Would  a  lady 
marry  a  heathen  negro,  she  shall  have  chronicled  example 
for  it.  Would  any  one  scorn  at  his  Maker,  he  shall  be 
furnished  with  a  jest  in  this  book.  Would  he  defy  his 
brother  in  the  flesh,  he  shall  be  accommodated  with  a 
challenge.  Would  you  be  drunk,  Shakespeare  will  cheer 
you  with  a  cup.  Would  you  plunge  in  sensual  pleasures, 
he  will  soothe  you  to  indulgence,  as  with  the  lascivious 
sounds  of  a  lute.  This,  I  say  —  this  book  is  the  wellhead 
and  source  of  all  those  evils  which  have  overrun  the  land 
like  a  torrent,  making  men  scoffers,  doubters,  deniers, 
murderers,  make  bates,  and  lovers  of  the  wine-pot,  haunt- 
ing unclean  places,  and  sitting  long  at  the  evening  wine. 
Away  with  him  —  away  with  him,  men  of  England! 
to  Tophet  with  his  wicked  book,  and  to  the  vale  of 
Hinnom  with  his  accursed  bones!  Verily,  but  that  our 
march  was  hasty  when  we  passed  Stratford,  in  the  year 
1643,  with  Sir  William  Waller  —  but  that  our  march 
was  hasty  — ' 

'Because  Prince  Rupert  was  after  you  with  his 
Cavaliers,'  muttered  the  incorrigible  Joceline. 

*I  say,'  continued  the  zealous  trooper,  raising  his 
voice  and  extending  his  arm,  'but  that  our  march  was 
by  command  hasty,  and  that  we  turned  not  aside  in  our 
riding,  closing  our  ranks  each  one  upon  the  other  as 
becomes  men  of  war,  I  had  torn  on  that  day  the  bones 
of  that  preceptor  of  vice  and  debauchery  from  the  grave, 
and  given  them  to  the  next  dunghill.  I  would  have  made 
his  memory  a  scoff  and  a  hissing.' 

'  That  is  the  bitterest  thing  he  has  said  yet,'  observed 
the  keeper.  'Poor  Will  would  have  liked  the  hissing 
worse  than  all  the  rest.' 

60 


WOODSTOCK' 

*Will  the  gentleman  say  any  more?'  inquired  Phoebe 
in  a  whisper.  '  Lack-a-day,  he  talks  brave  words,  if  one 
knew  but  what  they  meant.  But  it  is  a  mercy  our  good 
knight  did  not  see  him  ruffle  the  book  at  that  rate. 
Mercy  on  us,  there  would  certainly  have  been  bloodshed. 
But  oh  the  father  —  see  how  he  is  twisting  his  face 
about!  Is  he  ill  of  the  colic,  think'st  thou,  Joceline  ?  Or 
may  I  offer  him  a  glass  of  strong  waters? ' 

'  Hark  thee  hither,  wench,'  said  the  keeper,  'he  is  but 
loading  his  blunderbuss  for  another  volley;  and  while  he 
turns  up  his  eyes,  and  twists  about  his  face,  and  clenches 
his  j&st,  and  shuffles  and  tramples  with  his  feet  in  that 
fashion,  he  is  bound  to  take  no  notice  of  anything.  I 
would  be  sworn  to  cut  his  purse,  if  he  had  one,  from  his 
side,  without  his  feeling  it.' 

*La!  Joceline,'  said  Phcebe,  'and  if  he  abides  here  in 
this  turn  of  times,  I  dare  say  the  gentleman  will  be  easily 
served.' 

'Care  not  thou  about  that,'  said  Joliffe;  'but  tell  me 
softly  and  hastily,  what  is  in  the  pantry?' 

'Small  housekeeping  enough,'  said  Phoebe:  'a  cold 
capon  and  some  comfits,  and  the  great  standing  venison 
pasty,  with  plenty  of  spice  —  a  manchet  or  two  besides, 
and  that  is  all.' 

'Well,  it  will  serve  for  a  pinch.  Wrap  thy  cloak  round 
thy  comely  body;  get  a  basket  and  a  brace  of  trenchers 
and  towels,  they  are  heinously  impoverished  down 
yonder;  carry  down  the  capon  and  the  manchets;  the 
pasty  must  abide  with  this  same  soldier  and  me,  and  the 
pie-crust  will  serve  us  for  bread.' 

'Rarely,'  said  Phcebe,  'I  made  the  paste  myself:  it  is 
as  thick  as  the  walls  of  Fair  Rosamond's  Tower.' 

6i 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'Which  two  pairs  of  Jaws  would  be  long  in  gnawing 
through,  work  hard  as  they  might,'  said  the  keeper. 
'But  what  liquor  is  there?' 

'Only  a  bottle  of  Alicant  and  one  of  sack,  with  the 
stone  jug  of  strong  waters,'  answered  Phoebe. 

'Put  the  wine-flasks  into  thy  basket,'  said  Joceline, 
'the  knight  must  not  lack  his  evening  draught;  and 
down  with  thee  to  the  hut  like  a  lapwing.  There  is 
enough  for  supper,  and  to-morrow  is  a  new  day.  Ha!  by 
Heaven  I  thought  yonder  man's  eye  watched  us.  No, 
he  only  rolled  it  round  him  in  a  brown  study.  Deep 
enough  doubtless,  as  they  all  are!  But  d — n  him,  he 
must  be  bottomless  if  I  carmot  sound  him  before  the 
night 's  out.   Hie  thee  away,  Phoebe.' 

But  Phoebe  was  a  rural  coquette,  and,  aware  that 
Joceline's  situation  gave  him  no  advantage  of  avenging 
the  challenge  in  a  fitting  way,  she  whispered  in  his  ear, 
'  Do  you  think  our  knight's  friend,  Shakespeare,  really 
found  out  all  these  naughty  devices  the  gentleman  spoke 
of?' 

Off  she  darted  while  she  spoke,  while  Joliffe  menaced 
future  vengeance  with  his  finger,  as  he  muttered,  'Go 
thy  way,  Phoebe  Mayflower,  the  lightest-footed  and 
lightest-hearted  wench  that  ever  tripped  the  sod  in 
Woodstock  Park!  After  her,  Bevis,  and  bring  her  safe 
to  our  master  at  the  hut.' 

The  large  greyhound  arose  like  a  human  servitor  who 
had  received  an  order,  and  followed  Phoebe  through  the 
hall,  first  licking  her  hand  to  make  her  sensible  of  his 
presence,  and  then  putting  himself  to  a  slow  trot,  so  as 
best  to  accommodate  himself  to  the  light  pace  of  her 
whom  he  convoyed,  whom  Joceline  had  not  extolled  for 

62 


WOODSTOCK 

her  activity  without  due  reason.  While  Phoebe  and  her 
guardian  thread  the  forest  glades,  we  return  to  the  lodge. 

The  Independent  now  seemed  to  start  as  if  from  a 
reverie.   'Is  the  young  woman  gone?'  said  he. 

*Ay,  marry  is  she/  said  the  keeper;  'and  if  your  wor- 
ship hath  further  commands,  you  must  rest  contented 
with  male  attendance.' 

*  Commands  —  umph  —  I  think  the  damsel  might 
have  tarried  for  another  exhortation,'  said  the  soldier; 
'  truly,  I  profess  my  mind  was  much  inclined  toward  her 
for  her  edification.' 

'Oh,  sir,'  repHed  Joliffe,  'she  will  be  at  church  next 
Sunday,  and  if  your  military  reverence  is  pleased  again 
to  hold  forth  amongst  us,  she  will  have  use  of  the  doc- 
trine with  the  rest.  But  young  maidens  of  these  parts 
hear  no  private  homilies.  And  what  is  now  your  pleas- 
ure? Will  you  look  at  the  other  rooms,  and  at  the  few 
plate  articles  which  have  been  left? ' 

'Umph  —  no,'  said  the  Independent;  'it  wears  late, 
and  gets  dark.  Thou  hast  the  means  of  giving  us  beds, 
friend?' 

'Better  you  never  slept  in,'  replied  the  keeper. 

'And  wood  for  a  fire,  and  a  Hght,  and  some  small  pit- 
tance of  creature-comforts  for  refreshment  of  the  out- 
ward man?'  continued  the  soldier. 

'Without  doubt,'  replied  the  keeper,  displaying  a 
prudent  anxiety  to  gratify  this  important  personage. 

In  a  few  minutes  a  great  standing  candlestick  was 
placed  on  an  oaken  table.  The  mighty  venison  pasty, 
adorned  with  parsley,  was  placed  on  the  board  on  a  clean 
napkin ;  the  stone  bottle  of  strong  waters,  with  a  black- 
jack full  of  ale,  formed  comfortable  appendages;  and  to 

63 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

this  meal  sate  down  in  social  manner  the  soldier,  occupy- 
ing a  great  elbow-chair,  and  the  keeper,  at  his  invitation, 
using  the  more  lowly  accommodation  of  a  stool,  at  the 
opposite  side  of  the  table.  Thus  agreeably  employed, 
our  history  leaves  them  for  the  present. 


CHAPTER  IV 

Yon  path  of  greensward 
Winds  round  by  sparry  grot  and  gay  pavilion; 
There  is  no  f3int  to  gall  thy  tender  foot. 
There  's  ready  shelter  from  each  breeze,  or  shower. 
But  duty  guides  not  that  way:  see  her  stand, 
With  wand  entwined  with  amaranth,  near  yon  cliffs. 
Oft  where  she  leads  thy  blood  must  mark  thy  footsteps, 
Oft  where  she  leads  thy  head  must  bear  the  storm, 
And  thy  shrunk  form  endure  heat,  cold,  and  hunger; 
But  she  will  guide  thee  up  to  noble  heights, 
Which  he  who  gains  seems  native  of  the  sky. 
While  earthly  things  lie  stretch'd  beneath  his  feet, 
Diminish'd,  shrunk,  and  valueless. 

Anonymous. 

The  reader  cannot  have  forgotten  that,  after  his  scuffle 
with  the  Commonwealth  soldier,  Sir  Henry  Lee,  with 
his  daughter  Alice,  had  departed  to  take  refuge  in  the 
hut  of  the  stout  keeper,  Joceline  Joliffe.  They  walked 
slow,  as  before,  for  the  old  knight  was  at  once  oppressed 
by  perceiving  these  last  vestiges  of  royalty  fall  into  the 
hands  of  republicans  and  by  the  recollection  of  his  recent 
defeat.  At  times  he  paused,  and,  with  his  arms  folded  on 
his  bosom,  recalled  all  the  circumstances  attending  his 
expulsion  from  a  house  so  long  his  home.  It  seemed  to 
him  that,  like  the  champions  of  romance  of  whom  he  had 
sometimes  read,  he  himself  was  retiring  from  the  post 
which  it  was  his  duty  to  guard,  defeated  by  a  Paynim 
knight,  for  whom  the  adventure  had  been  reserved  by 
fate.  Alice  had  her  own  painful  subjects  of  recollection, 
nor  had  the  tenor  of  her  last  conversation  with  her 
father  been  so  pleasant  as  to  make  her  anxious  to  renew 
it  until  his  temper  should  be  more  composed;  for  with 

37  65 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

an  excellent  disposition,  and  much  love  to  his  daughter, 
age  and  misfortunes,  which  of  late  came  thicker  and 
thicker,  had  given  to  the  good  knight's  passions  a  way- 
ward irritability  unknown  to  his  better  days.  His 
daughter,  and  one  or  two  attached  servants  who  still 
followed  his  decayed  fortunes,  soothed  his  frailty  as 
much  as  possible,  and  pitied  him  even  while  they  suf- 
fered under  its  effects. 

It  was  a  long  time  ere  he  spoke,  and  then  he  referred 
to  an  incident  already  noticed.  'It  is  strange,'  he  said, 
'  that  Bevis  should  have  followed  Joceline  and  that  fel- 
low rather  than  me.' 

'Assure  yourself,  sir,'  replied  Alice,  'that  his  sagacity 
saw  in  this  man  a  stranger,  whom  he  thought  himself 
obliged  to  watch  circumspectly,  and  therefore  he  re- 
mained with  Joceline.' 

'Not  so,  Alice,'  answered  Sir  Henry;  'he  leaves  me 
because  my  fortunes  have  fled  from  me.  There  is  a 
feeling  in  nature,  affecting  even  the  instinct,  as  it  is 
called,  of  dumb  animals,  which  teaches  them  to  fly  from 
misfortune.  The  very  deer  there  will  butt  a  sick  or 
wounded  buck  from  the  herd;  hurt  a  dog,  and  the  whole 
kennel  will  faU  on  him  and  worry  him;  fishes  devour 
their  own  kind  when  they  are  wounded  with  a  spear; 
cut  a  crow's  wing,  or  break  its  leg,  the  others  wiH  buffet 
it  to  death.' 

'That  may  be  true  of  the  more  irrational  kinds  of 
animals  among  each  other,'  said  Alice,  'for  their  whole 
life  is  wellnigh  a  warfare ;  but  the  dog  leaves  his  own  race 
to  attach  himself  to  ours  —  forsakes,  for  his  master,  the 
company,  food,  and  pleasure  of  his  own  kind;  and 
surely  the  fidelity  of  such  a  devoted  and  voluntary  serv- 

66 


WOODSTOCK 

ant  as  Bevis  hath  been  in  particular  ought  not  to  be 
lightly  suspected/ 

*I  am  not  angry  with  the  dog,  Alice;  I  am  only  sorry,* 
replied  her  father.  *I  have  read  in  faithful  chronicles 
that,  when  Richard  II  and  Henry  of  Bolingbroke  were 
at  Berkeley  Castle,  a  dog  of  the  same  kind  deserted  the 
king,  whom  he  had  always  attended  upon,  and  attached 
himself  to  Henry,  whom  he  then  saw  for  the  first  time. 
Richard  foretold,  from  the  desertion  of  his  favourite,  his 
approaching  deposition.^  The  dog  was  afterwards  kept 
at  Woodstock,  and  Bevis  is  said  to  be  of  his  breed,  which 
was  heedfuUy  kept  up.  What  I  might  foretell  of  mischief 
from  his  desertion,  I  cannot  guess,  but  my  mind  assures 
me  it  bodes  no  good.' 

There  was  a  distant  rustling  among  the  withered 
leaves,  a  bouncing  or  galloping  sound  on  the  path,  and 
the  favourite  dog  instantly  joined  his  master. 

'Come  into  court,  old  knave,'  said  Alice,  cheerfully, 
'and  defend  thy  character,  which  is  wellnigh  endan- 
gered by  this  absence.'  But  the  dog  only  paid  her 
courtesy  by  gambolling  around  them,  and  instantly 
plunged  back  again,  as  fast  as  he  could  scamper. 

'How  now,  knave,'  said  the  knight;  *thou  art  too  well 
trained,  surely,  to  take  up  the  chase  without  orders?' 
A  minute  more  showed  them  Phoebe  Mayflower  ap- 
proaching, her  light  pace  so  little  impeded  by  the  burden 
which  she  bore,  that  she  joined  her  master  and  young 
mistress  just  as  they  arrived  at  the  keeper's  hut,  which 
was  the  boundary  of  their  journey.  Bevis,  who  had  shot 
ahead  to  pay  his  compliments  to  Sir  Henry  his  master, 
had  returned  again  to  his  immediate  duty,  the  escorting 
*  The  story  occurs,  I  think,  in  Froissart's  Chronicles. 
67 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Phcebe  and  her  cargo  of  provisions.  The  whole  party 
stood  presently  assembled  before  the  door  of  the  keeper's 
hut. 

In  better  times,  a  substantial  stone  habitation,  fit  for 
the  yeoman-keeper  of  a  royal  walk,  had  adorned  this 
place.  A  fair  spring  gushed  out  near  the  spot,  and  once 
traversed  yards  and  courts,  attached  to  well-built  and 
convenient  kennels  and  mews.  But  in  some  of  the  skir- 
mishes which  were  common  during  the  civil  wars,  this 
little  silvan  dwelling  had  been  attacked  and  defended, 
stormed  and  burnt.  A  neighbouring  squire,  of  the  Par- 
liament side  of  the  question,  took  advantage  of  Sir 
Henry  Lee's  absence,  who  was  then  in  Charles's  camp, 
and  of  the  decay  of  the  royal  cause,  and  had,  without 
scruple,  carried  ofif  the  hewn  stones,  and  such  building- 
materials  as  the  fire  left  unconsumed,  and  repaired  his 
own  manor-house  with  them.  The  yeoman-keeper, 
therefore,  our  friend  Joceline,  had  constructed,  for  his 
own  accommodation  and  that  of  the  old  woman  he 
called  his  dame,  a  wattled  hut,  such  as  his  own  labour, 
with  that  of  a  neighbour  or  two,  had  erected  in  the 
course  of  a  few  days.  The  walls  were  plastered  with  clay, 
whitewashed,  and  covered  with  vines  and  other  creeping 
plants;  the  roof  was  neatly  thatched;  and  the  whole, 
though  merely  a  hut,  had,  by  the  neat-handed  Joliffe, 
been  so  arranged  as  not  to  disgrace  the  condition  of  the 
dweller. 

The  knight  advanced  to  the  entrance;  but  the  ingenu- 
ity of  the  architect,  for  want  of  a  better  lock  to  the  door, 
which  itself  was  but  of  wattles  curiously  twisted,  had 
contrived  a  mode  of  securing  the  latch  on  the  inside  with 
a  pin,  which  prevented  it  from  rising;  and  in  this  manner 

68 


WOODSTOCK 

it  was  at  present  fastened.  Conceiving  that  this  was 
some  precaution  of  Joliffe's  old  housekeeper,  of  whose 
deafness  they  were  all  aware,  Sir  Henry  raised  his  voice 
to  demand  admittance,  but  in  vain.  Irritated  at  this 
delay,  he  pressed  the  door  at  once  with  foot  and  hand,  in 
a  way  which  the  frail  barrier  was  unable  to  resist;  it  gave 
way  accordingly,  and  the  knight  thus  forcibly  entered 
the  kitchen,  or  outward  apartment,  of  his  servant.  In 
the  midst  of  the  floor,  and  with  a  posture  which  indi- 
cated embarrassment,  stood  a  youthful  stranger,  in  a 
riding-suit. 

'This  may  be  my  last  act  of  authority  here,'  said  the 
knight,  seizing  the  stranger  by  the  collar, '  but  I  am  still 
ranger  of  Woodstock  for  this  night  at  least.  Who  or 
what  art  thou?' 

The  stranger  dropped  the  riding-mantle  in  which  his 
face  was  mufiled,  and  at  the  same  time  fell  on  one  knee. 

'Your  poor  kinsman,  Markham  Everard,'  he  said, 
'who  came  hither  for  your  sake,  although  he  fears  you 
will  scarce  make  him  welcome  for  his  own,' 

Sir  Henry  started  back,  but  recovered  himself  in  an 
instant,  as  one  who  recollected  that  he  had  a  part  of 
dignity  to  perform.  He  stood  erect,  therefore,  and  re- 
plied, with  considerable  assumption  of  stately  cere- 
mony: 

'Fair  kinsman,  it  pleases  me  that  you  are  come  to 
Woodstock  upon  the  very  first  night  that,  for  many 
years  which  have  past,  is  likely  to  promise  you  a  worthy 
or  a  welcome  reception.' 

'Now  God  grant  it  be  so,  that  I  rightly  hear  and  duly 
understand  you,'  said  the  young  man;  while  Alice, 
though  she  was  silent,  kept  her  looks  fixed  on  her  father's 

69 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

face,  as  if  desirous  to  know  whether  his  meaning  was 
kind  towards  his  nephew,  which  her  knowledge  of  his 
character  inclined  her  greatly  to  doubt. 

The  knight  meanwhile  darted  a  sardonic  look,  first 
on  his  nephew,  then  on  his  daughter,  and  proceeded  — 
*  I  need  not,  I  presume,  inform  Mr.  Markham  Everard 
that  it  cannot  be  our  purpose  to  entertain  him,  or  even 
to  offer  him  a  seat,  in  this  poor  hut.' 

*I  will  attend  you  most  willingly  to  the  lodge,'  said 
the  young  gentleman.  'I  had,  indeed,  judged  you  were 
already  there  for  the  evening,  and  feared  to  intrude 
upon  you.  But  if  you  would  permit  me,  my  dearest 
uncle,  to  escort  my  kinswoman  and  you  back  to  the 
lodge,  believe  me,  amongst  all  which  you  have  so  often 
done  of  good  and  kind,  you  never  conferred  benefit 
that  will  be  so  dearly  prized.' 

'You  mistake  me  greatly,  Mr.  Markham  Everard,' 
replied  the  knight.  'It  is  not  our  purpose  to  return  to 
the  lodge  to-night,  nor,  by  Our  Lady,  to-morrow  neither. 
I  meant  but  to  intimate  to  you  in  all  courtesy,  that  at 
Woodstock  Lodge  you  will  find  those  for  whom  you  are 
fitting  society,  and  who,  doubtless,  will  afford  you  a 
willing  welcome,  which  I,  sir,  in  this  my  present  re- 
treat, do  not  presume  to  offer  to  a  person  of  your  con- 
sequence.* 

'For  Heaven's  sake,'  said  the  young  man,  turning 
to  Alice,  'tell  me  how  I  am  to  understand  language  so 
mysterious ! ' 

Alice,  to  prevent  his  increasing  the  restrained  anger 
of  her  father,  compelled  herself  to  answer,  though  it  was 
with  difficulty,  'We  are  expelled  from  the  lodge  by 
soldiers.' 

70 


WOODSTOCK 

*  Expelled  —  by  soldiers ! '  exclaimed  Everard,  in 
surprise;  'there  is  no  legal  warrant  for  this.' 

'None  at  all/  answered  the  knight,  in  the  same  tone 
of  cutting  irony  which  he  had  all  along  used,  '  and  yet 
as  lawful  a  warrant  as  for  aught  that  has  been  wrought 
in  England  this  twelvemonth  and  more.  You  are,  I 
think,  or  were,  an  Inns-of- Court-man  —  marry,  sir, 
your  enjoyment  of  your  profession  is  like  that  lease 
which  a  prodigal  wishes  to  have  of  a  wealthy  widow. 
You  have  already  survived  the  law  which  you  studied, 
and  its  expiry  doubtless  has  not  been  without  a  legacy 

—  some  decent  pickings,  some  merciful  increases,  as 
the  phrase  goes.  You  have  deserved  it  two  ways:  you 
wore  buff  and  bandalier,  as  well  as  wielded  pen  and  ink 

—  I  have  not  heard  if  you  held  forth  too?' 

*  Think  of  me  and  speak  of  me  as  harshly  as  you  will, 
sir,'  said  Everard,  submissively.  *I  have  but,  in  this 
evil  time,  guided  myself  by  my  conscience  and  my 
father's  commands.' 

*0,  an  you  talk  of  conscience,'  said  the  old  knight, 
*  I  must  have  mine  eye  upon  you,  as  Hamlet  says.  Never 
yet  did  Puritan  cheat  so  grossly  as  when  he  was  appeal- 
ing to  his  conscience ;  and  as  for  thy  fatJier  — ' 

He  was  about  to  proceed  in  a  tone  of  the  same  invec- 
tive, when  the  young  man  interrupted  him,  by  saying, 
in  a  firm  tone,  'Sir  Henry  Lee,  you  have  ever  been 
thought  noble.  Say  of  me  what  you  will,  but  speak  not 
of  my  father  what  the  ear  of  a  son  should  not  endure, 
and  which  yet  his  arm  cannot  resent.  To  do  me  such 
wrong  is  to  insult  an  unarmed  man  or  to  beat  a  captive.' 

Sir  Henry  paused,  as  if  struck  by  the  remark.  'Thou 
hast  spoken  truth  in  that,  Mark,  wert  thou  the  blackest 

71 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

Puritan  whom  hell  ever  vomited,  to  distract  an  un- 
happy country.' 

'Be  that  as  you  will  to  think  it,'  replied  Everard; 
*  but  let  me  not  leave  you  to  the  shelter  of  this  wretched 
hovel.  The  night  is  drawing  to  storm;  let  me  but  con- 
duct you  to  the  lodge,  and  expel  those  intruders,  who 
can,  as  yet  at  least,  have  no  warrant  for  what  they  do. 
I  will  not  linger  a  moment  behind  them,  save  just  to 
deliver  my  father's  message.  Grant  me  but  this  much, 
for  the  love  you  once  bore  me.' 

'Yes,  Mark,'  answered  his  uncle,  firmly,  but  sorrow- 
fully, 'thou  speakest  truth  —  I  did  love  thee  once.  The 
bright-haired  boy  whom  I  taught  to  ride,  to  shoot,  to 
hunt,  whose  hours  of  happiness  were  spent  with  me, 
wherever  those  of  graver  labours  were  employed  —  I 
did  love  that  boy  —  ay,  and  I  am  weak  enough  to  love 
even  the  memory  of  what  he  was.  But  he  is  gone,  Mark 
—  he  is  gone ;  and  in  his  room  I  only  behold  an  avowed 
and  determined  rebel  to  his  religion  and  to  his  king  — 
a  rebel  more  detestable  on  account  of  his  success,  the 
more  infamous  through  the  plundered  wealth  with 
which  he  hopes  to  gild  his  villainy.  But  I  am  poor,  thou 
think'st,  and  should  hold  my  peace,  lest  men  say, 
"Speak,  sirrah,  when  you  should."  Know,  however, 
that,  indigent  and  plundered  as  I  am,  I  feel  myself  dis- 
honoured in  holding  even  but  this  much  talk  with  the 
tool  of  usurping  rebels.  Go  to  the  lodge  if  thou  wilt, 
yonder  lies  the  way;  but  think  not  that,  to  regain  my 
dwelling  there,  or  all  the  wealth  I  ever  possessed  in  my 
wealthiest  days,  I  would  willingly  accompany  thee  three 
steps  on  the  greensward.  If  I  must  be  thy  companion, 
it  shall  be  only  when  thy  redcoats  have  tied  my  hands 

72 


WOODSTOCK 

behind  me,  and  bound  my  legs  beneath  my  horse's  belly. 
Thou  mayst  be  my  fellow-traveller  then,  I  grant  thee, 
if  thou  wilt,  but  not  sooner.' 

Alice,  who  suffered  cruelly  during  this  dialogue,  and 
was  well  aware  that  further  argument  would  only  kindle 
the  knight's  resentment  still  more  highly,  ventured  at 
last,  in  her  anxiety,  to  make  a  sign  to  her  cousin  to  break 
off  the  interview  and  to  retire,  since  her  father  com- 
manded his  absence  in  a  manner  so  peremptory.  Un- 
happily she  was  observed  by  Sir  Henry,  who,  conclud- 
ing that  what  he  saw  was  evidence  of  a  private  under- 
standing betwixt  the  cousins  —  his  wrath  acquired 
new  fuel,  and  it  required  the  utmost  exertion  of  self- 
command,  and  recollection  of  all  that  was  due  to  his 
own  dignity,  to  enable  him  to  veil  his  real  fury  under  the 
same  ironical  manner  which  he  had  adopted  at  the  be- 
ginning of  this  angry  interview. 

'If  thou  art  afraid,'  he  said,  'to  trace  our  forest  glades 
by  night,  respected  stranger,  to  whom  I  am  perhaps 
bound  to  do  honour  as  my  successor  in  the  charge  of 
these  walks,  here  seems  to  be  a  modest  damsel  who  will 
be  most  willing  to  wait  on  thee,  and  be  thy  bow-bearer. 
Only,  for  her  mother's  sake,  let  there  pass  some  sUght 
form  of  marriage  between  you.  Ye  need  no  license  or 
priest  in  these  happy  days,  but  may  be  buckled  like 
beggars  in  a  ditch,  with  a  hedge  for  a  church-roof  and  a 
tinker  for  a  priest.  I  crave  pardon  of  you  for  making 
such  an  officious  and  simple  request:  perhaps  you  are  a 
Ranter,  or  one  of  the  family  of  Love,  or  hold  marriage 
rites  as  unnecessary  as  KnipperdoHng  or  Jack  of  Ley- 
den?' 

*  For  mercy's  sake,  forbear  such  dreadful  jesting,  my 

73 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

father!  and  do  you,  Markham,  begone,  in  God's  name, 
and  leave  us  to  our  fate.  Your  presence  makes  my  fa- 
ther rave.' 

'  Jesting ! '  said  Sir  Henry.  *  I  was  never  more  serious. 
Raving!  I  was  never  more  composed.  I  could  never 
brook  that  falsehood  should  approach  me:  I  would  no 
more  bear  by  my  side  a  dishonoured  daughter  than  a 
dishonoured  sword;  and  this  unhappy  day  hath  shown 
that  both  can  fail.' 

'Sir  Henry,'  said  young  Everard,  'load  not  your  soul 
with  a  heavy  crime,  which  be  assured  you  do,  in  treating 
your  daughter  thus  unjustly.  It  is  long  now  since  you 
denied  her  to  me,  when  we  were  poor  and  you  were  pow- 
erful. I  acquiesced  in  your  prohibition  of  all  suit  and 
intercourse,  God  knoweth  what  I  suffered  —  but  I 
acquiesced.  Neither  is  it  to  renew  my  suit  that  I  now 
come  hither,  and  have,  I  do  acknowledge,  sought  speech 
of  her,  not  for  her  own  sake  only,  but  for  yours  also. 
Destruction  hovers  over  you,  ready  to  close  her  pinions 
to  stoop  and  her  talons  to  clutch.  Yes,  sir,  look  con- 
temptuous as  you  will,  such  is  the  case;  and  it  is  to 
protect  both  you  and  her  that  I  am  here.' 

'You  refuse  then  my  free  gift,'  said  Sir  Henry  Lee; 
*or  perhaps  you  think  it  loaded  with  too  hard  condi- 
tions? ' 

'  Shame  —  shame  on  you.  Sir  Henry ! '  said  Everard, 
waxing  warm  in  his  turn;  'have  your  pohtical  preju- 
dices so  utterly  warped  every  feeling  of  a  father,  that 
you  can  speak  with  bitter  mockery  and  scorn  of  what 
concerns  your  own  daughter's  honour?  Hold  up  your 
head,  fair  Alice,  and  tell  your  father  he  has  forgotten 
nature  in  his  fantastic  spirit  of  loyalty.    Know,  Sir 

74 


WOODSTOCK 

Henry,  that,  though  I  would  prefer  your  daughter's 
hand  to  every  blessing  which  Heaven  could  bestow  on 
me,  I  would  not  accept  it  —  my  conscience  would  not 
permit  me  to  do  so  —  when  I  knew  it  must  withdraw 
her  from  her  duty  to  you.' 

'Your  conscience  is  over-scrupulous,  young  man; 
carry  it  to  some  dissenting  rabbi,  and  he  who  takes  all 
that  comes  to  net  will  teach  thee  it  is  sinning  against  our 
mercies  to  refuse  any  good  thing  that  is  freely  offered 
to  us.' 

'When  it  is  freely  offered,  and  kindly  offered  —  not 
when  the  offer  is  made  in  irony  and  insult.  Fare  thee 
well,  Alice;  if  aught  could  make  me  desire  to  profit 
by  thy  father's  wild  wish  to  cast  thee  from  him  in  a 
moment  of  unworthy  suspicion,  it  would  be  that, 
while  indulging  in  such  sentiments,  Sir  Henry  Lee  is 
tyrannically  oppressing  the  creature  who  of  all  others 
is  most  dependent  on  his  kindness,  who  of  all  others 
will  most  feel  his  severity,  and  whom  of  all  others  he 
is  most  bound  to  cherish  and  support.' 

*Do  not  fear  for  me,  Mr.  Everard,'  exclaimed  Alice, 
aroused  from  her  timidity  by  a  dread  of  the  consequences 
not  unlikely  to  ensue,  where  civil  war  set  relations,  as 
well  as  fellow-citizens,  in  opposition  to  each  other. 
'Oh,  begone,  I  conjure  you  —  begone!  Nothing  stands 
betwixt  me  and  my  father's  kindness  but  these  unhappy 
family  divisions  —  but  your  ill-timed  presence  here. 
For  Heaven's  sake,  leave  us! ' 

'Soh,  mistress!'  answered  the  hot  old  CavaHer,  'you 
play  lady  paramount  already,  and  who  but  you!  You 
would  dictate  to  our  train,  I  warrant,  like  Goneril  and 
Regan !  But  I  tell  thee,  no  man  shall  leave  my  house  — 

75 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

and,  humble  as  it  is,  this  is  now  my  house  —  while  he 
has  aught  to  say  to  me  that  is  to  be  spoken,  as  this 
young  man  now  speaks,  with  a  bent  brow  and  a  lofty 
tone.   Speak  out,  sir,  and  say  your  worst.' 

'Fear  not  my  temper,  Mrs.  Alice,'  said  Everard,  with 
equal  firmness  and  placidity  of  manner;  'and  you,  Sir 
Henry,  do  not  think  that,  if  I  speak  firmly,  I  mean 
therefore  to  speak  in  anger,  or  officiously.  You  have 
taxed  me  with  much,  and,  were  I  guided  by  the  wild 
spirit  of  romantic  chivalry,  much  which,  even  from  so 
near  a  relative,  I  ought  not,  as  being  by  birth  and  in 
the  world's  estimation  a  gentleman,  to  pass  over  with- 
out reply.  Is  it  your  pleasure  to  give  me  patient  hear- 
ing?' 

'If  you  stand  on  your  defence,'  answered  the  stout 
old  knight,  '  God  forbid  that  you  should  not  challenge 
a  patient  hearing  —  ay,  though  your  pleading  were  two 
parts  disloyalty  and  one  blasphemy.  Only  be  brief;  this 
has  already  lasted  but  too  long.' 

'I  will.  Sir  Henry,'  replied  the  young  man;  'yet  it  is 
hard  to  crowd  into  a  few  sentences  the  defence  of  a  life 
which,  though  short,  has  been  a  busy  one  —  too  busy, 
your  indignant  gesture  would  assert.  But  I  deny  it:  I 
have  drawn  my  sword  neither  hastily  nor  without  due 
consideration  for  a  people  whose  rights  have  been  tram- 
pled on  and  whose  consciences  have  been  oppressed. 
Frown  not,  sir  —  such  is  not  your  view  of  the  contest, 
but  such  is  mine.  For  my  religious  principles,  at  which 
you  have  scoffed,  believe  me  that,  though  they  depend 
not  on  set  forms,  they  are  no  less  sincere  than  your  own, 
and  thus  far  purer  —  excuse  the  word  —  that  they  are 
unmingled  with  the  bloodthirsty  dictates  of  a  barbarous 

76 


WOODSTOCK 

age,  which  you  and  others  have  called  the  code  of  chival- 
rous honour.  Not  my  own  natural  disposition,  but  the 
better  doctrine  which  my  creed  has  taught,  enables  me 
to  bear  your  harsh  revilings  without  answering  in  a  simi- 
lar tone  of  wrath  and  reproach.  You  may  carry  insult 
to  extremity  against  me  at  your  pleasure,  not  on  ac- 
count of  our  relationship  alone,  but  because  I  am  bound 
in  charity  to  endure  it.  This,  Sir  Henry,  is  much  from 
one  of  our  house.  But,  with  forbearance  far  more  than 
this  requires,  I  can  refuse  at  your  hands  the  gift  which, 
most  of  all  things  under  Heaven,  I  should  desire  to  obtain, 
because  duty  calls  upon  her  to  sustain  and  comfort  you, 
and  because  it  were  sin  to  permit  you,  in  your  blind- 
ness, to  spurn  your  comforter  from  your  side.  Farewell, 
sir  —  not  in  anger,  but  in  pity.  We  may  meet  in  a  better 
time,  when  your  heart  and  your  principles  shall  master 
the  unhappy  prejudices  by  which  they  are  now  over- 
clouded.   Farewell  —  farewell,  AHce ! ' 

The  last  words  were  repeated  twice,  and  in  a  tone  of 
feeling  and  passionate  grief  which  differed  utterly  from 
the  steady  and  almost  severe  tone  in  which  he  had  ad- 
dressed Sir  Henry  Lee.  He  turned  and  left  the  hut  so 
soon  as  he  had  uttered  these  last  words;  and,  as  if 
ashamed  of  the  tenderness  which  had  mingled  with  his 
accents,  the  young  Commonwealth's-man  turned  and 
walked  sternly  and  resolvedly  forth  into  the  moonlight, 
which  now  was  spreading  its  broad  light  and  autumnal 
shadows  over  the  woodland. 

So  soon  as  he  departed,  Alice,  who  had  been  during 
the  whole  scene  in  the  utmost  terror  that  her  father 
might  have  been  hurried,  by  his  natural  heat  of  temper, 
from  violence  of  language  into  violence  of  action^  sunk 

77 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

down  upon  a  settle  twisted  out  of  willow-boughs,  like 
most  of  Joceline's  few  movables,  and  endeavoured  to 
conceal  the  tears  which  accompanied  the  thanks  she 
rendered  in  broken  accents  to  Heaven,  that,  notwith- 
standing the  near  alliance  and  relationship  of  the  par- 
ties, some  fatal  deed  had  not  closed  an  interview  so 
perilous  and  so  angry.  Phoebe  Mayflower  blubbered 
heartily  for  company,  though  she  understood  but  little 
of  what  had  passed;  just,  indeed,  enough  to  enable  her 
afterwards  to  report  to  some  half-dozen  particular 
friends  that  her  old  master.  Sir  Henry,  had  been  perilous 
angry,  and  almost  fought  with  young  Master  Everard, 
because  he  had  wellnigh  carried  away  her  young  mis- 
tress. 'And  what  could  he  have  done  better,'  said 
Phoebe,  'seeing  the  old  man  had  nothing  left  either  for 
Mrs.  Alice  or  himself?  and  as  for  Mr.  Mark  Everard  and 
our  young  lady,  oh !  they  had  spoken  such  loving  things 
to  each  other  as  are  not  to  be  found  in  the  history  of 
Argalus  and  Parthenia,  who,  as  the  story-book  tells, 
were  the  truest  pair  of  lovers  in  all  Arcadia  and  Oxford- 
shire to  boot.' 

Old  Goody  Jellicot  had  popped  her  scarlet  hood  into 
the  kitchen  more  than  once  while  the  scene  was  pro- 
ceeding; but,  as  the  worthy  dame  was  parcel  blind  and 
more  than  parcel  deaf,  knowledge  was  excluded  by  two 
principal  entrances;  and  though  she  comprehended,  by  a 
sort  of  general  instinct,  that  the  gentlefolk  were  at  high 
words,  yet  why  they  chose  Joceline's  hut  for  the  scene 
of  their  dispute  was  as  great  a  mystery  as  the  subject 
of  the  quarrel. 

But  what  was  the  state  of  the  old  Cavalier's  mood, 
thus  contradicted,  as  his  most  darling  principles  had 

78 


WOODSTOCK 

been,  by  the  last  words  of  his  departing  nephew?  The 
truth  is,  that  he  was  less  thoroughly  moved  than  his 
daughter  expected;  and  in  all  probability  his  nephew's 
bold  defence  of  his  religious  and  political  opinions  rather 
pacified  than  aggravated  his  displeasure.  Although 
sufficiently  impatient  of  contradiction,  still  evasion  and 
subterfuge  were  more  aHen  to  the  blunt  old  ranger's 
nature  than  manly  vindication  and  direct  opposition; 
and  he  was  wont  to  say,  that  he  ever  loved  the  buck 
best  who  stood  boldest  at  bay.  He  graced  his  nephew's 
departure,  however,  with  a  quotation  from  Shakespeare, 
whom,  as  many  others  do,  he  was  wont  to  quote  from  a 
sort  of  habit  and  respect,  as  a  favourite  of  his  unfortun- 
ate master,  without  having  either  much  real  taste  for  his 
works  or  great  skill  in  applying  the  passages  which  he 
retained  on  his  memory. 

'Mark,'  he  said  —  'mark  this,  Alice:  the  devil  can 
quote  Scripture  for  his  purpose.  Why,  this  young 
fanatic  cousin  of  thine,  with  no  more  beard  than  I  have 
seen  on  a  clown  playing  Maid  Marion  on  May-day, 
when  the  village  barber  had  shaved  him  in  too  great  a 
hurry,  shall  match  any  bearded  Presbyterian  or  Inde- 
pendent of  them  all  in  laying  down  his  doctrines  and  his 
uses,  and  bethumping  us  with  his  texts  and  his  homilies. 
I  would  worthy  and  learned  Dr.  Rochecliffe  had  been 
here,  with  his  battery  ready  mounted  from  the  Vulgate, 
and  the  Septuagint,  and  what  not:  he  would  have  bat- 
tered the  Presbyterian  spirit  out  of  him  with  a  wanion. 
However,  I  am  glad  the  young  man  is  no  sneaker;  for, 
were  a  man  of  the  devil's  opinion  in  religion  and  of  Old 
Noll's  in  politics,  he  were  better  open  on  it  full  cry  than 
deceive  you  by  hunting  counter  or  running  a  false  scent. 

79 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Come,  wipe  thine  eyes:  the  fray  is  over,  and  not  like  to 
be  stirred  again  soon,  I  trust.' 

Encouraged  by  these  words,  Alice  rose,  and,  bewil- 
dered as  she  was,  endeavoured  to  superintend  the  ar- 
rangements for  their  meal  and  their  repose  in  their  new 
habitation.  But  her  tears  fell  so  fast,  they  marred  her 
counterfeited  diligence;  and  it  was  well  for  her  that 
Phccbe,  though  too  ignorant  and  too  simple  to  compre- 
hend the  extent  of  her  distress,  could  afford  her  material 
assistance,  in  lack  of  mere  sympathy. 

With  great  readiness  and  address,  the  damsel  set 
about  everything  that  was  requisite  for  preparing  the 
supper  and  the  beds;  now  screaming  into  Dame  Jellicot's 
ear,  now  whispering  into  her  mistress's,  and  artfully 
managing  as  if  she  was  merely  the  agent  under  Alice's 
orders.  When  the  cold  viands  were  set  forth.  Sir  Henry 
Lee  kindly  pressed  his  daughter  to  take  refreshment,  as 
if  to  make  up,  indirectly,  for  his  previous  harshness 
towards  her;  while  he  himself,  like  an  experienced  cam- 
paigner, showed  that  neither  the  mortifications  nor 
brawls  of  the  day,  nor  the  thoughts  of  what  was  to  come 
to-morrow,  could  diminish  his  appetite  for  supper, 
which  was  his  favourite  meal.  He  ate  up  two-thirds  of 
the  capon,  and,  devoting  the  first  bumper  to  the  happy 
restoration  of  Charles,  second  of  the  name,  he  finished  a 
quart  of  wine;  for  he  belonged  to  a  school  accustomed  to 
feed  the  flame  of  their  loyalty  with  copious  brimmers. 
He  even  sang  a  verse  of  'The  King  shall  enjoy  his  own 
again,'  in  which  Phoebe,  half-sobbing,  and  Dame  Jelli- 
cot,  screaming  against  time  and  tune,  were  contented  to 
lend  their  aid,  to  cover  Mistress  Alice's  silence. 

At  length  the  jovial  knight  betook  himself  to  his  rest 

80 


WOODSTOCK 

on  the  keeper's  straw  pallet,  in  a  recess  adjoining  to  the 
kitchen,  and,  unaffected  by  his  change  of  dwelling,  slept 
fast  and  deep.  Alice  had  less  quiet  rest  in  old  Goody 
Jellicot's  wicker  couch,  in  the  inner  apartment;  while  the 
dame  and  Phoebe  slept  on  a  mattrass,  stuffed  with  dry 
leaves,  in  the  same  chamber,  soundly  as  those  whose 
daily  toil  gains  their  daily  bread,  and  whom  morning 
calls  up  only  to  renew  the  toils  of  yesterday. 


S7 


CHAPTER  V 


My  tongue  pads  slowly  under  this  new  language, 
And  starts  and  stumbles  at  these  uncouth  phrases. 
They  may  be  great  in  worth  and  weight,  but  hang 
Upon  the  native  glibness  of  my  language 
Like  Saul's  plate-armour  on  the  shepherd  boy, 
Encumbering  and  not  arming  him. 


J.  B. 


As  Markham  Everard  pursued  his  way  towards  the  lodge, 
through  one  of  the  long  sweeping  glades  which  traversed 
the  forest,  varying  in  breadth,  till  the  trees  were  now  so 
close  that  the  boughs  made  darkness  over  his  head,  then 
receding  farther  to  let  in  glimpses  of  the  moon,  and  anon 
opening  yet  wider  into  little  meadows  or  savannahs,  on 
which  the  moonbeams  lay  in  silvery  silence  —  as  he  thus 
proceeded  on  his  lonely  course,  the  various  effects  pro- 
duced by  that  delicious  light  on  the  oaks,  whose  dark 
leaves,  gnarled  branches,  and  massive  trunks  it  gilded 
more  or  less  partially,  might  have  drawn  the  attention  of 
a  poet  or  a  painter. 

But  if  Everard  thought  of  anything  saving  the  painful 
scene  in  which  he  had  just  played  his  part,  and  of  which 
the  result  seemed  the  destruction  of  all  his  hopes,  it  was 
of  the  necessary  guard  to  be  observed  in  his  night-walk. 
The  times  were  dangerous  and  unsettled,  the  roads  full 
of  disbanded  soldiers,  and  especially  of  Royalists,  who 
made  their  poHtical  opinions  a  pretext  for  disturbing  the 
country  with  marauding  parties  and  robberies.  Deer- 
stcalcrs  also,  who  are  ever  a  desperate  banditti,  had  of 
late  infested  Woodstock  Chase.    In  short,  the  dangers 

82 


WOODSTOCK 

of  the  place  and  period  were  such  that  Markham  Ever- 
ard  wore  his  loaded  pistols  at  his  belt,  and  carried  his 
drawn  sword  under  his  arm,  that  he  might  be  prepared 
for  whatever  peril  should  cross  his  path. 

He  heard  the  bells  of  Woodstock  church  ring  curfew, 
just  as  he  was  crossing  one  of  the  little  meadows  we 
have  described,  and  they  ceased  as  he  entered  an  over- 
shadowed and  twilight  part  of  the  path  beyond.  It  was 
there  that  he  heard  some  one  whistling;  and,  as  the 
sound  became  clearer,  it  was  plain  the  person  was  ad- 
vancing towards  him.  This  could  hardly  be  a  friend;  for 
the  party  to  which  he  belonged  rejected,  generally  speak- 
ing, all  music,  unless  psalmody.  *  If  a  man  is  merry,  let 
him  sing  psalms,'  was  a  text  which  they  were  pleased  to 
interpret  as  literally  and  to  as  little  purpose  as  they  did 
some  others ;  yet  it  was  too  continued  a  sound  to  be  a 
signal  amongst  night-walkers,  and  too  hght  and  cheerful 
to  argue  any  purpose  of  concealment  on  the  part  of  the 
traveller,  who  presently  exchanged  his  whistling  for 
singing,  and  trolled  forth  the  following  stanza  to  a  jolly 
tune,  with  which  the  old  Cavaliers  were  wont  to  wake 
the  night  owl  — 

'Hey  for  cavaliers!  Ho  for  cavaliers! 
Pray  for  cavaliers! 

Rub  a  dub  —  rub  a  dub ! 

Have  at  old  Beelzebub. 
Oliver  smokes  for  fear.' 

'I  should  know  that  voice,'  said  Everard,  uncocking 
the  pistol  which  he  had  drawn  from  his  belt,  but  con- 
tinuing to  hold  it  in  his  hand.  Then  came  another 
fragment  — 

'Hash  them,  slash  them, 
All  to  pieces  dash  them.' 

83 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'So  ho!'  cried  Markham,  'who  goes  there,  and  for 
whom?' 

'For  Church  and  King,'  answered  a  voice,  which 
presently  added, '  No,  d  — n  me,  I  mean  against  Church 
and  King,  and  for  the  people  that  are  uppermost,  I 
forget  which  they  are. ' 

'Roger  Wildrake,  as  I  guess?'  said  Everard. 

'The  same  gentleman,  of  Squattlesea  Mere,  in  the 
moist  county  of  Lincoln.' 

'Wildrake!'  said  Markham.  'Wildgoose  you  should 
be  called.  You  have  been  moistening  your  own  throat  to 
some  purpose,  and  using  it  to  gabble  tunes  very  suitable 
to  the  times,  to  be  sure.' 

'Faith,  the  tune  's  a  pretty  tune  enough,  Mark,  only 
out  of  fashion  a  Uttle,  the  more  's  the  pity.' 

'What  could  I  expect,'  said  Everard,  'but  to  meet 
some  ranting,  drunken  Cavalier,  as  desperate  and  dan- 
gerous as  night  and  sack  usually  make  them?  What  if  I 
had  rewarded  your  melody  by  a  ball  in  the  gullet? ' 

'Why,  there  would  have  been  a  piper  paid,  that's  all,' 
said  Wildrake.  'But  wherefore  come  you  this  way  now? 
I  was  about  to  seek  you  at  the  hut.' 

'I  have  been  obliged  to  leave  it.  I  will  tell  you  the 
cause  hereafter,'  replied  Markham. 

'What!  the  old  play-hunting  CavaUer  was  cross,  or 
Chloe  was  unkind?' 

'Jest  not,  Wildrake;  it  is  all  over  with  me,'  said 
Everard. 

'The  devil  it  is,'  exclaimed  Wildrake,  'and  you  take  it 
thus  quietly!  Zounds!  let  us  back  together.  I'll  plead 
your  cause  for  you.  I  know  how  to  tickle  up  an  old 
knight  and  a  pretty  maiden.  Let  me  alone  for  putting 

84 


WOODSTOCK 

you  rectus  in  curia,  you  canting  rogue.  "D — n  me,  Sir 
Henry  Lee,"  says  I,  '^  your  nephew  is  a  piece  of  a  Puri- 
tan —  it  won't  deny  —  but  I  '11  uphold  him  a  gentle- 
man and  a  pretty  fellow,  for  all  that."  "  Madam,"  says  I, 
"  you  may  think  your  cousin  looks  like  a  psakn-singing 
weaver,  in  that  bare  felt,  and  with  that  rascally  brown 
cloak,  that  band,  which  looks  like  a  baby's  clout,  and 
those  loose  boots,  which  have  a  whole  calf -skin  in  each 
of  them;  but  let  him  wear  on  the  one  side  of  his  head  a 
castor,  with  a  plume  befitting  his  quality;  give  him  a 
good  Toledo  by  his  side,  with  a  broidered  belt  and  an 
inlaid  hilt,  instead  of  the  ton  of  iron  contained  in  that 
basket-hilted  black  Andrew  Ferrara;put  a  few  smart 
words  in  his  mouth,  and,  blood  and  wounds!  madam," 
says  I  — ' 

'Prithee,  truce  with  this  nonsense,  Wildrake,'  said 
Everard,  'and  tell  me  if  you  are  sober  enough  to  hear  a 
few  words  of  sober  reason? ' 

'Pshaw!  man,  I  did  but  crack  a  brace  of  quarts  with 
yonder  Puritanic  Roundheaded  soldiers  up  yonder  at  the 
town;  and  rat  me  but  I  passed  myself  for  the  best  man 
of  the  party  —  twanged  my  nose  and  turned  up  my  eyes 
as  I  took  my  can.  Pah !  the  very  wine  tasted  of  hypoc- 
risy. I  think  the  rogue  corporal  smoked  something  at 
last;  as  for  the  common  fellows,  never  stir,  but  they 
asked  me  to  say  grace  over  another  quart!' 

'  This  is  just  what  I  wished  to  speak  with  you  about, 
Wildrake,'  said  Markham.  '  You  hold  me,  I  am  sure,  for 
your  friend? ' 

'  True  as  steel.  Chums  at  college  and  at  Lincoln's  Inn, 
we  have  been  Nisus  and  Euryalus,  Theseus  and  Piri- 
thous,  Orestes  and  Py lades,  and,  to  sum  up  the  whole 

85 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

with  a  Puritanic  touch,  David  and  Jonathan,  all  in  one 
breath.  Not  even  politics,  the  wedge  that  rends  famihes 
and  friendships  asunder,  as  iron  rives  oak,  have  been 
able  to  split  us.' 

'True,'  answered  Markham;  'and  when  you  followed 
the  King  to  Nottingham,  and  I  enrolled  under  Essex, 
we  swore,  at  our  parting,  that  whichever  side  was  vic- 
torious, he  of  us  who  adhered  to  it  should  protect  his 
less  fortunate  comrade.' 

'Surely,  man  —  surely;  and  have  you  not  protected 
me  accordingly?  Did  you  not  save  me  from  hanging? 
and  am  I  not  indebted  to  you  for  the  bread  I  eat?' 

'I  have  but  done  that  which,  had  the  times  been 
otherwise,  you,  my  dear  Wildrake,  would,  I  am  sure, 
have  done  for  me.  But,  as  I  said,  that  is  just  what  I 
wished  to  speak  to  you  about.  Why  render  the  task  of 
protecting  you  more  difficult  than  it  must  necessarily  be 
at  any  rate?  Why  thrust  thyself  into  the  company  of 
soldiers,  or  such-like,  where  thou  art  sure  to  be  warmed 
into  betraying  thyself?  Why  come  hollowing  and 
whooping  out  Cavalier  ditties,  like  a  drunken  trooper  of 
Prince  Rupert,  or  one  of  Wilmot's  swaggering  body- 
guards?' 

'  Because  I  may  have  been  both  one  and  t'other  in  my 
day,  for  aught  that  you  know,'  replied  Wildrake.  'But, 
odd  fish !  is  it  necessary  I  should  always  be  reminding 
you  that  our  obligation  of  mutual  protection,  our 
league  of  offensive  and  defensive,  as  I  may  call  it,  was  to 
be  carried  into  effect  without  reference  to  the  politics  or 
religion  of  the  party  protected,  or  the  least  obligation  on 
him  to  conform  to  those  of  his  friend?' 

'True,'  said  Everard;  'but  with  this  most  necessary 
86 


WOODSTOCK 

qualification,  that  the  party  should  submit  to  such  out- 
ward conformity  to  the  times  as  should  make  it  more 
easy  and  safe  for  his  friend  to  be  of  service  to  him.  Now, 
you  are  perpetually  breaking  forth,  to  the  hazard  of 
your  own  safety  and  my  credit.' 

*I  tell  you,  Mark,  and  I  would  tell  your  namesake 
the  apostle,  that  you  are  hard  on  me.  You  have  prac- 
tised sobriety  and  hypocrisy  from  your  hanging  sleeves 
till  your  Geneva  cassock  —  from  the  cradle  to  this  day 
—  and  it  is  a  thing  of  nature  to  you ;  and  you  are  sur- 
prised that  a  rough,  rattling,  honest  fellow,  accustomed 
to  speak  truth  all  his  life,  and  especially  when  he  found 
it  at  the  bottom  of  a  flask,  cannot  be  so  perfect  a  prig  as 
thyself!  Zooks!  there  is  no  equaUty  betwixt  us.  A 
trained  diver  might  as  well,  because  he  can  retain  his 
breath  for  ten  minutes  without  inconvenience,  upbraid 
a  poor  devil  for  being  like  to  burst  in  twenty  seconds, 
at  the  bottom  of  ten  fathoms'  water;  and,  after  all,  con- 
sidering the  guise  is  so  new  to  me,  I  think  I  bear  myself 
indifferently  well  —  try  me ! ' 

'Are  there  any  more  news  from  Worcester  fight?' 
asked  Everard,  in  a  tone  so  serious  that  it  imposed  on 
his  companion,  who  replied  in  his  genuine  character  — 

*  Worse !  d — n  me  —  worse  an  hundred  times  than 
reported  —  totally  broken.  Noll  hath  certainly  sold 
himself  to  the  Devil,  and  his  lease  will  have  an  end  one 
day,  that  is  all  our  present  comfort.' 

'  What !  and  would  this  be  your  answer  to  the  first  red- 
coat who  asked  the  question? '  said  Everard.  '  Methinks 
you  would  find  a  speedy  passport  to  the  next  corps  de 
garde.'' 

'  Nay  —  nay,'  answered  Wildrake,  *  I  thought  you 

87 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

asked  me  in  your  own  person.  Lack-a-day!  a  great 
mercy  —  a  glorifying  mercy  —  a  crowning  mercy  —  a 
vouchsafing  —  an  uplifting;  I  profess  the  Malignants 
are  scattered  from  Dan  to  Beersheba,  smitten,  hip  and 
thigh,  even  until  the  going  down  of  the  sun!' 

'Hear  you  aught  of  Colonel  Thornhaugh's  wounds?' 

*He  is  dead,'  answered  Wildrake,  'that 's  one  comfort 
—  the  Roundheaded  rascal !  Nay,  hold !  it  was  but  a  trip 
of  the  tongue  —  I  meant,  the  sweet,  godly  youth.' 

'And  hear  you  aught  of  the  young  man,  King  of 
Scotland,  as  they  call  him?'  said  Everard. 

'Nothing,  but  that  he  is  hunted  like  a  partridge  on  the 
mountains.  May  God  deliver  him  and  confound  his 
enemies!  Zoons,  Mark  Everard,  I  can  fool  it  no  longer. 
Do  you  not  remember,  that  at  the  Lincoln's  Inn  gam- 
bols —  though  you  did  not  mingle  much  in  them,  I 
think  —  I  used  always  to  play  as  well  as  any  of  them 
when  it  came  to  the  action,  but  they  could  never  get  me 
to  rehearse  conformably.  It's  the  same  at  this  day.  I 
hear  your  voice,  and  I  answer  to  it  in  the  true  tone  of  my 
heart;  but  when  I  am  in  the  company  of  your  snuflSing 
friends,  you  have  seen  me  act  my  part  indifferent 
well.' 

'But  indifferent,  indeed,'  replied  Everard;  'however, 
there  is  little  call  on  you  to  do  aught,  save  to  be  modest 
and  silent.  Speak  little,  and  lay  aside,  if  you  can,  your 
big  oaths  and  swaggering  looks  —  set  your  hat  even  on 
your  brows.' 

'Ay,  that  is  the  curse!  I  have  been  always  noted  for 
the  jaunty  manner  in  which  I  wear  my  castor.  Hard 
when  a  man's  merits  become  his  enemies!' 

'You  must  remember  you  are  my  clerk.' 


WOODSTOCK 

'Secretary,'  answered  Wildrake;  'let  it  be  secretary, 
if  you  love  me.' 

*It  must  be  clerk,  and  nothing  else  —  plain  clerk;  and 
remember  to  be  civil  and  obedient,'  replied  Everard. 

'But  you  should  not  lay  on  your  commands  with  so 
much  ostentatious  superiority,  Master  Markham  Ever- 
ard. Remember  I  am  your  senior  of  three  years'  stand- 
ing.  Confound  me,  if  I  know  how  to  take  it!' 

'  Was  ever  such  a  fantastic  wronghead !  For  my  sake, 
if  not  for  thine  own,  bend  thy  freakish  folly  to  listen  to 
reason.  Think  that  I  have  incurred  both  risk  and  shame 
on  thy  account.' 

'Nay,  thou  art  a  right  good  fellow,  Mark,'  replied  the 
Cavalier,  'and  for  thy  sake  I  will  do  much;  but  remem- 
ber to  cough  and  cry  hem!  when  thou  seest  me  like  to 
break  bounds.  And  now  tell  me  whither  we  are  bound 
for  the  night?' 

'To  Woodstock  Lodge,  to  look  after  my  uncle's  prop- 
erty,' answered  Markham  Everard:  'I  am  informed  that 
soldiers  have  taken  possession.  Yet  how  could  that  be,  if 
thou  f oundest  the  party  drinking  in  Woodstock? ' 

'There  was  a  kind  of  commissary  or  steward,  or 
some  such  rogue,  had  gone  down  to  the  lodge,'  replied 
Wildrake;  'I  had  a  peep  at  him.' 

'  Indeed ! '  replied  Everard. 

'Ay,  verily,'  said  Wildrake,  'to  speak  your  own 
language.  Why,  as  I  passed  through  the  park  in  quest  of 
you,  scarce  half  an  hour  since,  I  saw  a  light  in  the  lodge. 
Step  this  way,  you  will  see  it  yourself.' 

'In  the  north-west  angle?'  returned  Everard;  'it  is 
from  a  window  in  what  they  call  Victor  Lee's  apartment.' 

'Well,'  resumed  Wildrake,  'I  had  been  long  one  of 

89 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Lundsford's  lads,  and  well  used  to  patrolling  duty  —  so, 
"  Rat  me,"  says  I,  "if  I  leave  a  light  in  my  rear  without 
knowing  what  it  means."  Besides,  Mark,  thou  hadst 
said  so  much  to  me  of  thy  pretty  cousin,  I  thought  I 
might  as  well  have  a  peep,  if  I  could.' 

'Thoughtless,  incorrigible  man!  to  what  dangers  do 
you  expose  yourself  and  your  friends,  in  mere  wanton- 
ness! But  go  on.' 

'By  this  fair  moonshine,  I  believe  thou  art  Jealous, 
Mark  Everard,'  replied  his  gay  companion.  *  There  is  no 
occasion;  for,  in  any  case,  I,  who  was  to  see  the  lady,  was 
steeled  by  honour  against  the  charms  of  my  friend's 
Chloe.  Then  the  lady  was  not  to  see  me,  so  could  make 
no  comparisons  to  thy  disadvantage,  thou  knowest. 
Lastly,  as  it  fell  out,  neither  of  us  saw  the  other  at  all.' 

*0f  that  I  am  well  aware.  Mrs.  Alice  left  the  lodge 
long  before  sunset,  and  never  returned.  What  didst  thou 
see  to  introduce  with  such  preface?' 

'Nay,  no  great  matter,'  replied  Wildrake;  'only,  get- 
ting upon  a  sort  of  buttress  —  for  I  can  climb  like  any 
cat  that  ever  mewed  in  any  gutter  —  and  holding  on  by 
the  vines  and  creepers  which  grew  around,  I  obtained  a 
station  where  I  could  see  into  the  inside  of  that  same 
parlour  thou  spokest  of  just  now.' 

'And  what  saw'st  thou  there?'  once  more  demanded 
Everard. 

'Nay,  no  great  matter,  as  I  said  before,'  replied  the 
Cavalier;  'for  in  these  times  it  is  no  new  thing  to  see 
churls  carousing  in  royal  or  noble  chambers.  I  saw  two 
rascallions  engaged  in  empt>dng  a  solemn  stoup  of  strong 
waters,  and  dispatching  a  huge  venison  pasty,  which 
greasy  mess,  for  their  convenience,  they  had  placed  on  a 

90 


WOODSTOCK 

lady's  work-table.  One  of  them  was  trying  an  air  on  a 
lute.' 

'The  profane  villains!'  exclaimed  Everard,  'it  was 
AHce's.' 

'Well  said,  comrade  —  I  am  glad  your  phlegm  can  be 
moved.  I  did  but  throw  in  these  incidents  of  the  lute 
and  the  table  to  try  if  it  were  possible  to  get  a  spark  of 
human  spirit  out  of  you,  be-sanctified  as  you  are.' 

'What  like  were  the  men?'  said  young  Everard. 

'The  one  a  slouch-hatted,  long-cloaked,  sour-faced 
fanatic,  Hke  the  rest  of  you,  whom  I  took  to  be  the  stew- 
ard or  commissary  I  heard  spoken  of  in  the  town;  the 
other  was  a  short  sturdy  fellow,  with  a  wood-knife  at  his 
girdle,  and  a  long  quarter-staff  lying  beside  him  —  a 
black-haired  knave,  with  white  teeth  and  a  merry  coun- 
tenance —  one  of  the  under-rangers  or  bow-bearers  of 
these  walks,  I  fancy.' 

'They  must  have  been  Desborough's  favourite, 
Trusty  Tomkins,'  said  Everard,  'and  Joceline  Joliffe, 
the  keeper.  Tomkins  is  Desborough's  right  hand  — an 
Independent,  and  hath  pourings  forth,  as  he  calls  them. 
Some  think  that  his  gifts  have  the  better  of  his  grace.  I 
have  heard  of  his  abusing  opportunities.' 

'They  were  improving  them  when  I  saw  them,'  re- 
plied Wildrake, '  and  made  the  bottle  smoke  for  it,  when, 
as  the  devil  would  have  it,  a  stone,  which  had  been  dis- 
lodged from  the  crumbling  buttress,  gave  way  under  my 
weight.  A  clumsy  fellow  like  thee  would  have  been  so 
long  thinking  what  was  to  be  done,  that  he  must  needs 
have  followed  it  before  he  could  make  up  his  mind;  but 
I,  Mark  —  I  hopped  Hke  a  squirrel  to  an  ivy  twig,  and 
stood  fast,  was  wellnigh  shot,  though,  for  the  noise 

91 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

alarmed  them  both.  They  looked  to  the  oriel,  and  saw 
me  on  the  outside;  the  fanatic  fellow  took  out  a  pistol  — 
as  they  have  always  such  texts  in  readiness  hanging 
beside  the  little  clasped  Bible,  thou  know'st;  the  keeper 
seized  his  hunting-pole.  I  treated  them  both  to  a  roar 
and  a  grin  —  thou  must  know  I  can  grimace  like  a 
baboon  —  I  learned  the  trick  from  a  French  player,  who 
could  twist  his  jaws  into  a  pair  of  nut-crackers  —  and 
therewithal  I  dropped  myself  sweetly  on  the  grass,  and 
ran  off  so  trippingly,  keeping  the  dark  side  of  the  wall  as 
long  as  I  could,  that  I  am  wellnigh  persuaded  they 
thought  I  was  their  kinsman,  the  devil,  come  among 
them  uncalled.  They  were  abominably  startled.' 

*Thou  art  most  fearfully  rash,  Wildrake,'  said  his 
companion.  *We  are  now  bound  for  the  house;  what  if 
they  should  remember  thee?' 

'  Why,  it  is  no  treason,  is  it?  No  one  has  paid  for  peep- 
ing since  Tom  of  Coventry's  days ;  and  if  he  came  in  for  a 
reckoning,  belike  it  was  for  a  better  treat  than  mine. 
But  trust  me,  they  will  no  more  know  me  than  a  man 
who  had  only  seen  your  friend  Noll  at  a  conventicle  of 
saints  would  know  the  same  Oliver  on  horseback,  and 
charging  with  his  lobster- tailed  squadron;  or  the  same 
Noll  cracking  a  jest  and  a  bottle  with  wicked  Waller  the 
poet.' 

'  Hush !  not  a  word  of  Oliver,  as  thou  dost  value  thy- 
self and  me.  It  is  ill  jesting  with  the  rock  you  may  split 
on.  But  here  is  the  gate;  we  will  disturb  these  honest 
gentlemen's  recreations.' 

As  he  spoke,  he  applied  the  large  and  ponderous 
knocker  to  the  hall  door. 

'Rat-tat- tat- too!'  said  Wildrake;  'there  is  a  fine 
92 


WOODSTOCK 

alarm  to  you  cuckolds  and  Roundheads ! '  He  then  half- 
mimicked,  half-sung  the  march  so  called: 

*  Cuckolds,  come  dig,  cuckolds,  come  dig; 
Round  about  cuckolds,  come  dance  to  my  jig! ' 

'By  Heaven!  this  passes  midsummer  frenzy,'  said 
Everard,  turning  angrily  to  him. 

'Not  a  bit  —  not  a  bit,'  replied  Wildrake;  'it  is  but  a 
slight  expectoration,  just  like  what  one  makes  before 
beginning  a  long  speech.  I  will  be  grave  for  an  hour 
together,  now  I  have  got  that  point  of  war  out  of  my 
head.' 

As  he  spoke,  steps  were  heard  in  the  hall,  and  the 
wicket  of  the  great  door  was  partly  opened,  but  secured 
with  a  chain  in  case  of  accidents.  The  visage  of  Tom- 
kins,  and  that  of  Joceline  beneath  it,  appeared  at  the 
chink,  illuminated  by  the  lamp  which  the  latter  held  in 
his  hand,  and  Tomkins  demanded  the  meaning  of  this 
alarm. 

'I  demand  instant  admittance,'  said  Everard.  *  JoHfife, 
you  know  me  well? ' 

'I  do,  sir,'  replied  Joceline,  'and  could  admit  you  with 
all  my  heart;  but,  alas!  sir,  you  see  I  am  not  key-keeper. 
Here  is  the  gentleman  whose  warrant  I  must  walk  by. 
The  Lord  help  me,  seeing  times  are  such  as  they  be ! ' 

'And  when  that  gentleman,  who  I  think  may  be 
Master  Desborough's  valet  — ' 

'His  honour's  unworthy  secretary,  an  it  please  you,' 
interposed  Tomkins;  while  Wildrake  whispered  in 
Everard's  ear,  'I  will  be  no  longer  secretary.  Mark, 
thou  wert  quite  right:  the  clerk  must  be  the  more  gentle- 
manly calling.' 

'And  if  you  are  Master  Desborough's  secretary,  I 

93 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

presume  you  know  me  and  my  condition  well  enough,' 
said  Everard,  addressing  the  Independent,  'not  to  hesi- 
tate to  admit  me  and  my  attendant  to  a  night's  quar- 
ters in  the  lodge? ' 

'Surely  not  —  surely  not/  said  the  Independent; 
'  that  is,  if  your  worship  thinks  you  would  be  better  ac- 
commodated here  than  up  at  the  house  of  entertainment 
in  the  town,  which  men  unprofitably  call  St.  George's 
Inn.  There  is  but  confined  accommodation  here,  your 
honour,  and  we  have  been  frayed  out  of  our  lives  al- 
ready by  the  visitation  of  Satan,  albeit  his  fiery  dart 
is  now  quenched.' 

'This  may  be  all  well  in  its  place,  sir  secretary,'  said 
Everard,  'and  you  may  find  a  corner  for  it  when  you  are 
next  tempted  to  play  the  preacher.  But  I  will  take  it  for 
no  apology  for  keeping  me  here  in  the  cold  harvest  wind ; 
and  if  not  presently  received,  and  suitably  too,  I  will 
report  you  to  your  master  for  insolence  in  your  office.' 

The  secretary  of  Desborough  did  not  dare  offer  farther 
opposition;  for  it  is  well  known  that  Desborough  him- 
self only  held  his  consequence  as  a  kinsman  of  Crom- 
well, and  the  Lord  General,  who  was  wellnigh  paramount 
already,  was  known  to  be  strongly  favourable  both  to 
the  elder  and  younger  Everard.  It  is  true,  they  were 
Presbyterians  and  he  an  Independent;  and  that,  though 
sharing  those  feelings  of  correct  morality  and  more  de- 
voted religious  feeling  by  which,  with  few  exceptions, 
the  Parliamentarian  party  were  distinguished,  the  Ever- 
ards  were  not  disposed  to  carry  these  attributes  to  the 
extreme  of  enthusiasm  practised  by  so  many  others  at 
the  time.  Yet  it  was  well  known  that,  whatever  might 
be  Cromwell's  own  religious  creed,  he  was  not  uniformly 

94 


WOODSTOCK 

bounded  by  it  in  the  choice  of  his  favourites,  but  ex- 
tended his  countenance  to  those  who  could  serve  him, 
even  although,  according  to  the  phrase  of  the  time,  they 
came  out  of  the  darkness  of  Egj^^t.  The  character  of 
the  elder  Everard  stood  very  high  for  wisdom  and 
sagacity;  besides,  being  of  a  good  family  and  competent 
fortune,  his  adherence  would  lend  a  dignity  to  any  side 
he  might  espouse.  Then  his  son  had  been  a  distin- 
guished and  successful  soldier,  remarkable  for  the  dis- 
cipline he  maintained  among  his  men,  the  bravery 
which  he  showed  in  the  time  of  action,  and  the  humanity 
with  which  he  was  always  ready  to  qualify  the  conse- 
quences of  victory.  Such  men  were  not  to  be  neglected, 
when  many  signs  combined  to  show  that  the  parties 
in  the  state  who  had  successfully  accomplished  the  de- 
position and  death  of  the  King  were  speedily  to  quarrel 
among  themselves  about  the  division  of  the  spoils. 
The  two  Everards  were  therefore  much  courted  by 
Cromwell,  and  their  influence  with  him  was  supposed 
to  be  so  great,  that  trusty  Master  Secretary  Tomkins 
cared  not  to  expose  himself  to  risk,  by  contending  with 
Colonel  Everard  for  such  a  trifle  as  a  night's  lodging. 
Joceline  was  active  on  his  side:  more  lights  were  ob- 
tained, more  wood  thrown  on  the  fire,  and  the  two  newly- 
arrived  strangers  were  introduced  into  Victor  Lee's  par- 
lour, as  it  was  called,  from  the  picture  over  the  chimney- 
piece,  which  we  have  already  described.  It  was  several 
minutes  ere  Colonel  Everard  could  recover  his  general 
stoicism  of  deportment,  so  strongly  was  he  impressed 
by  finding  himself  in  the  apartment  under  whose  roof 
he  had  passed  so  many  of  the  happiest  hours  of  his  fife. 
There  was  the  cabinet  which  he  had  seen  opened  with 

95 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

such  feelings  of  delight  when  Sir  Henry  Lee  deigned  to 
give  him  instructions  in  fishing,  and  to  exhibit  hooks  and 
lines,  together  with  all  the  materials  for  making  the 
artificial  fly,  then  little  known.  There  hung  the  ancient 
family  picture,  which,  from  some  odd  mysterious  ex- 
pressions of  his  uncle  relating  to  it,  had  become  to  his 
boyhood,  nay,  his  early  youth,  a  subject  of  curiosity 
and  of  fear.  He  remembered  how,  when  left  alone  in  the 
apartment,  the  searching  eye  of  the  old  warrior  seemed 
always  bent  upon  his,  in  whatever  part  of  the  room  he 
placed  himself,  and  how  his  childish  imagination  was 
perturbed  at  a  phenomenon  for  which  he  could  not  ac- 
count. 

With  these  came  a  thousand  dearer  and  warmer  re- 
collections of  his  early  attachment  to  his  pretty  cousin 
Alice,  when  he  assisted  her  at  her  lessons,  brought  water 
for  her  flowers,  or  accompanied  her  while  she  sung;  and 
he  remembered  that,  while  her  father  looked  at  them 
with  a  good-humoured  and  careless  smile,  he  had  once 
heard  him  mutter,  'And  if  it  should  turn  out  so,  why  it 
might  be  best  for  both,'  and  the  theories  of  happiness  he 
had  reared  on  these  words.  All  these  visions  had  been 
dispelled  by  the  trumpet  of  war,  which  called  Sir  Henry 
Lee  and  himself  to  opposite  sides;  and  the  transactions 
of  this  very  day  had  shown  that  even  Everard's  success 
as  a  soldier  and  a  statesman  seemed  absolutely  to  pro- 
hibit the  chance  of  their  being  revived. 

He  was  waked  out  of  this  unpleasing  reverie  by  the 
approach  of  Joceline,  who,  being  possibly  a  seasoned 
toper,  had  made  the  additional  arrangements  with  more 
expedition  and  accuracy  than  could  have  been  expected 
from  a  person  engaged  as  he  had  been  since  night-fall. 

96 


WOODSTOCK 

He  now  wished  to  know  the  colonel's  directions  for 
the  night. 

'Would  he  eat  anything?' 

'No.' 

'Did  his  honour  choose  to  accept  Sir  Henry  Lee's 
bed,  which  was  ready  prepared? ' 

'Yes.' 

'That  of  Mistress  Alice  Lee  should  be  prepared  for 
the  secretary.' 

'On  pain  of  thine  ears  —  no,'  replied  Everard. 

'Where  then  was  the  worthy  secretary  to  be  quar- 
tered?' 

'In  the  dog-kennel,  if  you  list,'  repHed  Colonel  Ever- 
ard; 'but,'  added  he,  stepping  to  the  sleeping-apartment 
of  Alice,  which  opened  from  the  parlour,  locking  it  and 
taking  out  the  key,  'no  one  shall  profane  this  chamber.' 

'  Had  his  honour  any  other  commands  for  the  night? ' 

'None,  save  to  clear  the  apartment  of  yonder  man. 
My  clerk  will  remain  with  me :  I  have  orders  which  must 
be  written  out.  Yet  stay.  Thou  gavest  my  letter  this 
morning  to  Mistress  Alice? ' 

'I  did.' 

'Tell  me,  good  Joceline,  what  she  said  when  she  re- 
ceived it? ' 

'She  seemed  much  concerned,  sir;  and  indeed  I  think 
that  she  wept  a  little  —  but  indeed  she  seemed  very 
much  distressed.' 

'And  what  message  did  she  send  to  me?' 

'None,  may  it  please  your  honour.   She  began  to  say, 

"Tell  my  cousin  Everard  that  I  will  communicate  my 

uncle's  kind  purpose  to  my  father,  if  I  can  get  fitting 

opportunity;  but  that  I  greatly  fear — "  and  there 

37  97 


WAVERLEY  N0VEL3 

checked  herself,  as  it  were, and  said,  "I  will  write  to  my 
cousin;  and  as  it  may  be  late  ere  I  have  an  opportunity 
of  speaking  with  my  father,  do  thou  come  for  my  answer 
after  service."  So  I  went  to  church  myself  to  while  away 
the  time;  but  when  I  returned  to  the  chase,  I  found  this 
man  had  summoned  my  master  to  surrender,  and,  right 
or  wrong,  I  must  put  him  in  possession  of  the  lodge. 
I  would  fain  have  given  your  honour  a  hint  that  the  old 
knight  and  my  young  mistress  were  like  to  take  you  on 
the  form,  but  I  could  not  mend  the  matter.' 

'  Thou  hast  done  well,  good  fellow,  and  I  will  remember 
thee.  And  now,  my  masters,'  he  said,  advancing  to  the 
brace  of  clerks  or  secretaries,  who  had  in  the  mean  while 
sate  quietly  down  beside  the  stone  bottle,  and  made  up 
acquaintance  over  a  glass  of  its  contents,  *  let  me  remind 
you  that  the  night  wears  late.' 

'There  is  something  cries  tinkle,  tinkle,  in  the  bottle 
yet,'  said  Wildrake,  in  reply. 

*  Hem !  hem !  hem ! '  coughed  the  colonel  of  the  Parlia- 
ment service;  and  if  his  lips  did  not  curse  his  compan- 
ion's imprudence,  I  will  not  answer  for  what  arose  in  his 
heart.  'Well!'  he  said,  observing  that  Wildrake  had 
filled  his  own  glass  and  Tomkins's,  *  take  that  parting 
glass  and  begone.' 

'Would  you  not  be  pleased  to  hear  first,'  said  Wild- 
rake, 'how  this  honest  gentleman  saw  the  Devil  to- 
night look  through  a  pane  of  yonder  window,  and  how 
he  thinks  he  had  a  mighty  strong  resemblance  to  your 
worship's  humble  slave  and  varlet  scribbler?  Would  you 
but  hear  this,  sir,  and  just  sip  a  glass  of  this  very  re- 
commendable  strong  waters? ' 

*I  will  drink  none,  sir,'  said  Colonel  Everard,  sternly; 

98 


WOODSTOCK 

'and  I  have  to  tell  you  that  you  have  drunken  a  glass 
too  much  already.  Mr.  Tomkins,  sir,  I  wish  you  good- 
night.' 

'A  word  in  season  at  parting,'  said  Tomkins,  stand- 
ing up  behind  the  long  leathern  back  of  a  chair,  hem- 
ming and  snufifling  as  if  preparing  for  an  exhortation. 

'Excuse  me,  sir,'  repHed  Markham  Everard;  'you 
are  not  now  sufficiently  yourself  to  guide  the  devotion 
of  others.' 

'Woe  be  to  them  that  reject — !'  said  the  secretary 
of  the  Commissioners,  stalking  out  of  the  room ;  the  rest 
was  lost  in  shutting  the  door,  or  suppressed  for  fear  of 
offence. 

*  And  now,  fool  Wildrake,  begone  to  thy  bed  — 
yonder  it  lies,'  pointing  to  the  knight's  apartment. 

'What,  thou  hast  secured  the  lady's  for  thyself?  I 
saw  thee  put  the  key  in  thy  pocket.' 

'I  would  not,  indeed  I  could  not,  sleep  in  that  apart- 
ment. I  can  sleep  nowhere;  but  I  will  watch  in  this 
arm-chair.  I  have  made  him  place  wood  for  repairing 
the  fire.  Good  now,  go  to  bed  thyself,  and  sleep  off  thy 
liquor.' 

'Liquor!  I  laugh  thee  to  scorn,  Mark;  thou  art  a 
milksop,  and  the  son  of  a  milksop,  and  know'st  not  what 
a  good  fellow  can  do  in  the  way  of  crushing  an  honest 
cup.' 

'  The  whole  vices  of  his  faction  are  in  this  poor  fellow 
individually,'  said  the  colonel  to  himself,  eyeing  his 
protege,  askance,  as  the  other  retreated  into  the  bedroom 
with  no  very  steady  pace.  'He  is  reckless,  intemperate, 
dissolute;  and  if  I  cannot  get  him  safely  shipped  for 
France,  he  will  certainly  be  both  his  own  ruin  and  mine. 

99 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Yet,  withal,  he  is  kind,  brave,  and  generous,  and  would 
have  kept  the  faith  with  me  which  he  now  expects  from 
me;  and  in  what  consists  the  merit  of  our  truth,  if  we  ob- 
serve not  our  plighted  word  when  we  have  promised  to 
our  hurt?  I  will  take  the  liberty,  however,  to  secure 
myself  against  further  interruption  on  his  part.' 

So  saying,  he  locked  the  door  of  communication  be- 
twixt the  sleeping-room,  to  which  the  Cavalier  had  re- 
treated, and  the  parlour;  and  then,  after  pacing  the 
floor  thoughtfully,  returned  to  his  seat,  trimmed  the 
lamp,  and  drew  out  a  number  of  letters.  *I  will  read 
these  over  once  more,'  he  said,  Hhat,  if  possible,  the 
thought  of  public  affairs  may  expel  this  keen  sense  of 
personal  sorrow.  Gracious  Providence,  where  is  this  to 
end?  We  have  sacrificed  the  peace  of  our  famihes,  the 
warmest  wishes  of  our  young  hearts,  to  right  the  coun- 
try in  which  we  were  born,  and  to  free  her  from  op- 
pression; yet  it  appears  that  every  step  we  have  made 
towards  liberty  has  but  brought  us  in  view  of  new  and 
more  terrific  perils,  as  he  who  travels  in  a  mountainous 
region  is,  by  every  step  which  elevates  him  higher, 
placed  in  a  situation  of  more  imminent  hazard.' 

He  read  long  and  attentively  various  tedious  and  em- 
barrassed letters,  in  which  the  writers,  placing  before 
him  the  glory  of  God,  and  the  freedom  and  liberties  of 
England,  as  their  supreme  ends,  could  not,  by  all  the 
ambagitory  expressions  they  made  use  of,  prevent  the 
shrewd  eye  of  Markham  Everard  from  seeing  that  self- 
interest  and  views  of  ambition  were  the  principal  mov- 
ing-springs at  the  bottom  of  their  plots. 


CHAPTER  VI 

Sleep  steals  on  us  even  like  his  brother  Death: 

We  know  not  when  it  comes;  we  know  it  must  come. 

We  may  affect  to  scorn  and  to  contemn  it, 

For  't  is  the  highest  pride  of  human  misery 

To  say  it  knows  not  of  an  opiate; 

Yet  the  reft  parent,  the  despairing  lover. 

Even  the  poor  wretch  who  waits  for  execution, 

Feels  this  oblivion,  against  which  he  thought 

His  woes  had  arm'd  his  senses,  steal  upon  him. 

And  through  the  fenceless  citadel,  the  body, 

Surprise  that  haughty  garrison,  the  mind. 

Herbert. 

Colonel  Everard  experienced  the  truth  contained  in 
the  verses  of  the  quaint  old  bard  whom  we  have  quoted 
above.  Amid  private  grief,  and  anxiety  for  a  country^ 
long  a  prey  to  civil  war,  and  not  Ukely  to  fall  soon  under 
any  fixed  or  well-established  form  of  government, 
Everard  and  his  father  had,  Hke  many  others,  turned 
their  eyes  to  General  Cromwell,  as  the  person  whose 
valour  had  made  him  the  darhng  of  the  army,  whose 
strong  sagacity  had  hitherto  predominated  over  the 
high  talents  by  which  he  had  been  assailed  in  Parliament, 
as  well  as  over  his  enemies  in  the  field,  and  who  was 
alone  in  the  situation  to '  settle  the  nation,'  as  the  phrase 
then  went,  or,  in  other  words,  to  dictate  the  mode  of 
government.  The  father  and  son  were  both  reputed  to 
stand  high  in  the  General's  favour.  But  Markham 
Everard  was  conscious  of  some  particulars  which  induced 
him  to  doubt  whether  Cromwell  actually,  and  at  heart, 
bore  either  to  his  father  or  to  himself  that  good-will 
which  was  generally  believed.   He  knew  him  for  a  pro- 

lOI 

sma  %mm  smE  coliese  or 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

found  politician,  who  could  veil  for  any  length  of  time 
his  real  sentiments  of  men  and  things,  until  they  could 
be  displayed  without  prejudice  to  his  interest.  And  he, 
moreover,  knew  that  the  General  was  not  Hkely  to  forget 
the  opposition  which  the  Presbyterian  party  had  offered 
to  what  Oliver  called  the  '  great  matter '  —  the  trial, 
namely,  and  execution  of  the  King.  In  this  opposition 
his  father  and  he  had  anxiously  concurred,  nor  had  the 
arguments,  nor  even  the  half-expressed  threats,  of 
Cromwell  induced  them  to  flinch  from  that  course,  far 
less  to  permit  their  names  to  be  introduced  into  the 
commission  nominated  to  sit  in  judgment  on  that 
memorable  occasion. 

This  hesitation  had  occasioned  some  temporary  cold- 
ness between  the  General  and  the  Everards,  father  and 
son.  But  as  the  latter  remained  in  the  army,  and  bore 
'arms  under  Cromwell  both  in  Scotland  and  finally  at 
Worcester,  his  services  very  frequently  called  forth  the 
approbation  of  his  commander.  After  the  fight  of 
Worcester,  in  particular,  he  was  among  the  number  of 
those  officers  on  whom  Oliver,  rather  considering  the 
actual  and  practical  extent  of  his  own  power  than  the 
name  under  which  he  exercised  it,  was  with  difficulty 
withheld  from  imposing  the  dignity  of  knights-ban- 
nerets at  his  own  will  and  pleasure.  It  therefore  seemed 
that  all  recollection  of  former  disagreement  was  obliter- 
ated, and  that  the  Everards  had  regained  their  former 
stronghold  in  the  General's  affections.  There  were, 
indeed,  several  who  doubted  this,  and  who  endeavoured 
to  bring  over  this  distinguished  young  officer  to  some 
other  of  the  parties  which  divided  the  infant  Common- 
wealth.   But  to  these  proposals  he  turned  a  deaf  ear. 

102 


WOODSTOCK 

Enough  of  blood,  he  said,  had  been  spilled:  it  was  time 
that  the  nation  should  have  repose  under  a  firmly-es- 
tablished government,  of  strength  sufficient  to  protect 
property,  and  of  lenity  enough  to  encourage  the  return 
of  tranquillity.  This,  he  thought,  could  only  be  accom- 
plished by  means  of  Cromwell;  and  the  greater  part 
of  England  was  of  the  same  opinion.  It  is  true  that,  in 
thus  submitting  to  the  domination  of  a  successful  sol- 
dier, those  who  did  so  forgot  the  principles  upon  which 
they  had  drawn  the  sword  against  the  late  king.  But 
in  revolutions,  stern  and  high  principles  are  often 
obliged  to  give  way  to  the  current  of  existing  circum- 
stances; and  in  many  a  case,  where  wars  have  been 
waged  for  points  of  metaphysical  right,  they  have  been 
at  last  gladly  terminated  upon  the  mere  hope  of  ob- 
taining general  tranquillity,  as,  after  many  a  long  siege, 
a  garrison  is  often  glad  to  submit  on  mere  security  for 
life  and  limb. 

Colonel  Everard,  therefore,  felt  that  the  support 
which  he  afforded  Cromwell  was  only  under  the  idea 
that,  amid  a  choice  of  evils,  the  least  was  likely  to  ensue 
from  a  man  of  the  General's  wisdom  and  valour  being 
placed  at  the  head  of  the  state;  and  he  was  sensible  that 
Oliver  himself  was  Hkely  to  consider  his  attachment  a? 
lukewarm  and  imperfect,  and  measure  his  gratitude  for 
it  upon  the  same  Hmited  scale. 

In  the  mean  while,  however,  circumstances  com- 
pelled him  to  make  trial  of  the  General's  friendship. 
The  sequestration  of  Woodstock,  and  the  warrant  to 
the  Commissioners  to  dispose  of  it  as  national  property, 
had  been  long  granted,  but  the  interest  of  the  elder 
Everard  had  for  weeks  and  months  deferred  its  execu- 

103 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

tion.  The  hour  was  now  approaching  when  the  blow 
could  be  no  longer  parried,  especially  as  Sir  Henry  Lee, 
on  his  side,  resisted  every  proposal  of  submitting  him- 
self to  the  existing  government,  and  was  therefore,  now 
that  his  hour  of  grace  was  passed,  enrolled  in  the 
list  of  stubborn  and  irreclaimable  Malignants,  with 
whom  the  Council  of  State  was  determined  no  longer 
to  keep  terms.  The  only  mode  of  protecting  the  old 
knight  and  his  daughter  was  to  interest,  if  possible,  the 
General  himself  in  the  matter;  and  revolving  all  the  cir- 
cumstances connected  with  their  intercourse,  Colonel 
Everard  felt  that  a  request  which  would  so  immedi- 
ately interfere  with  the  interests  of  Desborough,  the 
brother-in-law  of  Cromwell,  and  one  of  the  present 
Commissioners,  was  putting  to  a  very  severe  trial  the 
friendship  of  the  latter.  Yet  no  alternative  remained. 
With  this  view,  and  agreeably  to  a  request  from 
Cromwell,  who  at  parting  had  been  very  urgent  to  have 
his  written  opinion  upon  public  affairs,  Colonel  Ever- 
ard passed  the  earlier  part  of  the  night  in  arranging  his 
ideas  upon  the  state  of  the  Commonwealth,  in  a  plan 
which  he  thought  likely  to  be  acceptable  to  Cromwell, 
as  it  exhorted  him,  under  the  aid  of  Providence,  to  be- 
come the  saviour  of  the  state,  by  convoking  a  free  Par- 
liament, and  by  their  aid  placing  himself  at  the  head  of 
some  form  of  Hberal  and  established  government,  which 
might  supersede  the  state  of  anarchy  in  which  the  na- 
tion was  otherwise  likely  to  be  merged.  Taking  a  general 
view  of  the  totally  broken  condition  of  the  Royalists, 
and  of  the  various  factions  which  now  convulsed  the 
state,  he  showed  how  this  might  be  done  without  blood- 
shed or  violence.    From  this  topic  he  descended  to 

104 


WOODSTOCK 

the  propriety  of  keeping  up  the  becoming  state  of  the 
executive  government,  in  whose  hands  soever  it  should 
be  lodged,  and  thus  showed  Cromwell,  as  the  future 
Stadtholder,  or  Consul,  or  Lieutenant- General  of  Great 
Britain  and  Ireland,  a  prospect  of  demesne  and  resi- 
dences becoming  his  dignity.  Then  he  naturally  passed 
to  the  disparking  and  destroying  of  the  royal  resi- 
dences of  England,  made  a  woful  picture  of  the  demo- 
lition which  impended  over  Woodstock,  and  interceded 
for  the  preservation  of  that  beautiful  seat,  as  a  matter  of 
personal  favour,  in  which  he  found  himself  deeply  inter- 
ested. 

Colonel  Everard,  when  he  had  finished  his  letter,  did 
not  find  himself  greatly  risen  in  his  own  opinion.  In  the 
course  of  his  political  conduct,  he  had  till  this  hour 
avoided  mixing  up  personal  motives  with  his  public 
grounds  of  action,  and  yet  he  now  felt  himself  making 
such  a  composition.  But  he  comforted  himself,  or  at 
least  silenced  this  unpleasing  recollection,  with  the  con- 
sideration, that  the  weal  of  Britain,  studied  under  the 
aspect  of  the  times,  absolutely  required  that  Cromwell 
should  be  at  the  head  of  the  government;  and  that  the 
interest  of  Sir  Henry  Lee,  or  rather  his  safety  and  his 
existence,  no  less  emphatically  demanded  the  preserva- 
tion of  Woodstock,  and  his  residence  there.  Was  it  a 
fault  of  his,  that  the  same  road  should  lead  to  both  these 
ends,  or  that  his  private  interest  and  that  of  the  coun- 
try should  happen  to  mix  in  the  same  letter?  He  hard- 
ened himself,  therefore,  to  the  act,  made  up  and  ad- 
dressed his  packet  to  the  Lord  General,  and  then  sealed 
it  with  his  seal  of  arms.  This  done,  he  lay  back  in  his 
chair,  and,  in  spite  of  his  expectations  to  the  contrary, 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

fell  asleep  in  the  course  of  his  reflections,  anxious  and 
harassing  as  they  were,  and  did  not  awaken  until  the 
cold  grey  light  of  dawn  was  peeping  through  the  eastern 
oriel. 

He  started  at  first,  rousing  himself  with  the  sensation 
of  one  who  awakes  in  a  place  unknown  to  him ;  but  the 
localities  instantly  forced  themselves  on  his  recollection. 
The  lamp  burning  dimly  in  the  socket,  the  wood-fire 
almost  extinguished  in  its  own  white  embers,  the  gloomy 
picture  over  the  chimney-piece,  the  sealed  packet  on 
the  table  —  all  reminded  him  of  the  events  of  yesterday, 
and  his  deliberations  of  the  succeeding  night. 

' There  is  no  help  for  it,'  he  said:  'it  must  be  Cromwell 
or  anarchy.  And  probably  the  sense  that  his  title,  as 
head  of  the  executive  government,  is  derived  merely 
from  popular  consent  may  check  the  too  natural  prone- 
ness  of  power  to  render  itself  arbitrary.  If  he  govern  by 
Parliaments,  and  with  regard  to  the  privileges  of  the 
subject,  wherefore  not  Oliver  as  well  as  Charles?  But 
I  must  take  measures  for  having  this  conveyed  safely 
to  the  hands  of  this  future  sovereign  prince.  It  will  be 
well  to  take  the  first  word  of  influence  with  him,  since 
there  must  be  many  who  will  not  hesitate  to  recommend 
counsels  more  violent  and  precipitate.' 

He  determined  to  entrust  the  important  packet  to  the 
charge  of  Wildrake,  whose  rashness  was  never  so  dis- 
tinguished as  when  by  any  chance  he  was  left  idle  and 
unemployed;  besides,  even  if  his  faith  had  not  been 
otherwise  unimpeachable,  the  obligations  which  he 
owed  to  his  friend  Everard  must  have  rendered  it  such. 

These  conclusions  passed  through  Colonel  Everard's 
mind,  as,  collecting  the  remains  of  wood  in  the  chimney, 

io6 


WOODSTOCK 

he  gathered  them  into  a  hearty  blaze,  to  remove  the 
uncomfortable  feeling  of  chillness  which  pervaded  his 
limbs;  and  by  the  time  he  was  a  little  more  warm, 
again  sunk  into  a  slumber,  which  was  only  dispelled  by 
the  beams  of  morning  peeping  into  his  apartment. 

He  arose,  roused  himself,  walked  up  and  down  the 
room,  and  looked  from  the  large  oriel  window  on  the 
nearest  objects,  which  were  the  untrimmed  hedges  and 
neglected  walks  of  a  certain  wilderness,  as  it  is  called  in 
ancient  treatises  on  gardening,  which,  kept  of  yore  well 
ordered,  and  in  all  the  pride  of  the  topiary  art,  presented 
a  succession  of  yew-trees  cut  into  fantastic  forms,  of 
close  alleys,  and  of  open  walks,  filling  about  two  or  three 
acres  of  ground  on  that  side  of  the  lodge,  and  forming  a 
boundary  between  its  immediate  precincts  and  the  open 
park.  Its  inclosure  was  now  broken  down  in  many 
places,  and  the  hinds  with  their  fawns  fed  free  and 
unstartled  up  to  the  very  windows  of  the  silvan  palace. 

This  had  been  a  favourite  scene  of  Markham's  sports 
when  a  boy.  He  could  still  distinguish,  though  now 
grown  out  of  shape,  the  verdant  battlements  of  a  Gothic 
castle,  all  created  by  the  gardener's  shears,  at  which  he 
was  accustomed  to  shoot  his  arrows;  or,  stalking  before 
it  like  the  knight-errants  of  whom  he  read,  was  wont  to 
blow  his  horn  and  bid  defiance  to  the  supposed  giant  or 
Paynim  knight  by  whom  it  was  garrisoned.  He  remem- 
bered how  he  used  to  train  his  cousin,  though  several 
years  younger  than  himself,  to  bear  a  part  in  those  revels 
of  his  bo}4sh  fancy,  and  to  play  the  character  of  an  elfin 
page,  or  a  fairy,  or  an  enchanted  princess.  He  remem- 
bered, too,  many  particulars  of  their  later  acquaintance, 
from  which  he  had  been  almost  necessarily  led  to  the 

107 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

conclusion,  that  from  an  early  period  their  parents  had 
entertained  some  idea  that  there  might  be  a  well-fitted 
match  betwixt  his  fair  cousin  and  himself.  A  thousand 
visions,  formed  in  so  bright  a  prospect,  had  vanished 
along  with  it,  hut  now  returned  Hke  shadows,  to  remind 
him  of  all  he  had  lost  —  and  for  what?  '  For  the  sake 
of  England,'  his  proud  consciousness  replied  —  *of 
England,  in  danger  of  becoming  the  prey  at  once  of 
bigotry  and  tyranny.'  And  he  strengthened  himself 
with  the  recollection,  *If  I  have  sacrificed  my  private 
happiness,  it  is  that  my  country  may  enjoy  liberty  of 
conscience  and  personal  freedom,  which,  under  a  weak 
prince  and  usurping  statesman,  she  was  but  too  likely 
to  have  lost.' 

But  the  busy  fiend  in  his  breast  would  not  be  repulsed 
by  the  bold  answer.  'Has  thy  resistance,'  it  demanded, 
'availed  thy  country,  Markham  Everard?  Lies  not 
England,  after  so  much  bloodshed  and  so  much  misery, 
as  low  beneath  the  sword  of  a  fortunate  soldier  as  for- 
merly under  the  sceptre  of  an  encroaching  prince?  Are 
Parliament,  or  what  remains  of  them,  fitted  to  contend 
with  a  leader,  master  of  his  soldiers'  hearts,  as  bold  and 
subtle  as  he  is  impenetrable  in  his  designs?  This  General, 
who  holds  the  army,  and  by  that  the  fate  of  the  nation, 
in  his  hand,  will  he  lay  down  his  power  because  philo- 
sophy would  pronounce  it  his  duty  to  become  a  subject?' 

He  dared  not  answer  that  his  knowledge  of  Cromwell 
authorised  him  to  expect  any  such  act  of  self-denial. 
Yet  still  he  considered  that,  in  times  of  such  infinite 
difficulty,  that  must  be  the  best  government,  however 
little  desirable  in  itself,  which  should  most  speedily  re- 
store peace  to  the  land,  and  stop  the  wounds  which  the 

io8 


WOODSTOCK 

contending  parties  were  daily  inflicting  on  each  other. 
He  imagined  that  Cromwell  was  the  only  authority 
under  which  a  steady  government  could  be  formed,  and 
therefore  had  attached  himself  to  his  fortune,  though 
not  without  considerable  and  recurring  doubts,  how  far 
serving  the  views  of  this  impenetrable  and  mysterious 
General  was  consistent  with  the  principles  under  which 
he  had  assumed  arms. 

While  these  things  passed  in  his  mind,  Everard  looked 
upon  the  packet  which  lay  on  the  table  addressed  to  the 
Lord  General,  and  which  he  had  made  up  before  sleep. 
He  hesitated  several  times,  when  he  remembered  its 
purport,  and  in  what  degree  he  must  stand  committed 
with  that  personage,  and  bound  to  support  his  plans  of 
aggrandisement,  when  once  that  communication  was  in 
OHver  Cromwell's  possession. 

'Yet  it  must  be  so,'  he  said  at  last,  with  a  deep  sigh. 
'Among  the  contending  parties,  he  is  the  strongest,  the 
wisest  and  most  moderate,  and  ambitious  though  he  be, 
perhaps  not  the  most  dangerous.  Some  one  must  be 
trusted  with  power  to  preserve  and  enforce  general  or- 
der, and  who  can  possess  or  wield  such  power  Hke  him 
that  is  head  of  the  victorious  armies  of  England?  Come 
what  will  in  future,  peace  and  the  restoration  of  law 
ought  to  be  our  first  and  most  pressing  object.  This 
remnant  of  a  parliament  cannot  keep  their  ground 
against  the  army,  by  mere  appeal  to  the  sanction  of 
opinion.  If  they  design  to  reduce  the  soldiery,  it  must 
be  by  actual  warfare,  and  the  land  has  been  too  long 
steeped  in  blood.  But  Cromwell  may,  and  I  trust  will, 
make  a  moderate  accommodation  with  them,  on  grounds 
by  which  peace  may  be  preserved;  and  it  is  this  to  which 

109 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

we  must  look  and  trust  for  a  settlement  of  the  kingdom, 
alas!  and  for  the  chance  of  protecting  my  obstinate  kins- 
man from  the  consequences  of  his  honest  though  absurd 
pertinacity.' 

Silencing  some  internal  feelings  of  doubt  and  reluc- 
tance by  such  reasoning  as  this,  Markham  Everard 
continued  in  his  resolution  to  unite  himself  with  Crom- 
well in  the  struggle  which  was  evidently  approaching  be- 
twixt the  civil  and  military  authorities,  not  as  the  course 
which,  if  at  perfect  liberty,  he  would  have  preferred 
adopting,  but  as  the  best  choice  between  two  dangerous 
extremities  to  which  the  times  had  reduced  him.  He 
could  not  help  trembling,  however,  when  he  recollected 
that  his  father,  though  hitherto  the  admirer  of  Cromwell 
as  the  implement  by  whom  so  many  marvels  had  been 
wrought  in  England,  might  not  be  disposed  to  unite  with 
his  interest  against  that  of  the  Long  Parliament,  of 
which  he  had  been,  till  partly  laid  aside  by  continued 
indisposition,  an  active  and  leading  member.  This 
doubt  also  he  was  obliged  to  swallow,  or  strangle,  as  he 
might;  but  consoled  himself  with  the  ready  argument, 
that  it  was  impossible  his  father  could  see  matters  in 
another  light  than  that  in  which  they  occurred  to  himself. 


CHAPTER  VII 

Determined  at  length  to  dispatch  his  packet  to  the 
General  without  delay,  Colonel  Everard  approached 
the  door  of  the  apartment  in  which,  as  was  e\'ident  from 
the  heavy  breathing  within,  the  prisoner  Wildrake  en- 
joyed a  deep  slumber,  under  the  influence  of  liquor  at 
once  and  of  fatigue.  In  turning  the  key,  the  bolt,  which 
was  rather  rusty,  made  a  resistance  so  noisy  as  partly  to 
attract  the  sleeper's  attention,  though  not  to  awaken 
him.  Everard  stood  by  his  bedside,  as  he  heard  him 
mutter,  *Is  it  morning  already,  jailer?  Why,  you  dog, 
an  you  had  but  a  cast  of  humanity  in  you,  you  would 
quaHfy  your  vile  news  with  a  cup  of  sack;  hanging  is 
sorry  work,  my  masters,  and  sorrow  's  dry.' 

*Up,  Wildrake  —  up,  thou  ill-omened  dreamer!'  said 
his  friend,  shaking  him  by  the  collar. 

'  Hands  off ! '  answered  the  sleeper.  *  I  can  climb  a  lad- 
der without  help,  I  trow.'  He  then  sate  up  in  the  bed, 
and  opening  his  eyes,  stared  around  him,  and  exclaimed 
'Zounds!  Mark,  is  it  only  thou?  I  thought  it  was  all 
over  with  me  —  fetters  were  struck  from  my  legs  — 
rope  drawn  round  my  gullet  —  irons  knocked  ofif  my 
hands  —  hempen  cravat  tucked  on  —  all  ready  for  a 
dance  in  the  open  element  upon  slight  footing.' 

'Truce  with  thy  folly,  Wildrake!  Sure  the  devil  of 
drink,  to  whom  thou  hast,  I  think,  sold  thyself  — ' 

'For  a  hogshead  of  sack,'  interrupted  Wildrake;  'the 
bargain  was  made  in  a  cellar  in  the  Vintry.' 

Ill 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

*  I  am  as  mad  as  thou  art,  to  trust  anything  to  thee,' 
said  Markham;  'I  scarce  believe  thou  hast  thy  senses 
yet.' 

'What  should  ail  me?'  said  Wildrake;  'I  trust  I  have 
not  tasted  liquor  in  my  sleep,  saving  that  I  dreamed  of 
drinking  small-beer  with  Old  Noll,  of  his  own  brewing. 
But  do  not  look  so  glum,  man:  I  am  the  same  Roger 
Wildrake  that  I  ever  was  —  as  wild  as  a  mallard,  but  as 
true  as  a  game-cock.  I  am  thine  own  chum,  man,  bound 
to  thee  by  thy  kind  deeds  —  devindus  beneficio  —  there 
is  Latin  for  it;  and  where  is  the  thing  thou  wilt  charge 
me  with  that  I  will  not,  or  dare  not,  execute,  were  it  to 
pick  the  Devil's  teeth  with  my  rapier,  after  he  had  break- 
fasted upon  Roundheads? ' 

'You  will  drive  me  mad,'  said  Everard.  'When  I  am 
about  to  entrust  all  I  have  most  valuable  on  earth  to 
your  management,  your  conduct  and  language  are 
those  of  a  mere  Bedlamite.  Last  night  I  made  allow- 
ance for  thy  drunken  fury;  but  who  can  endure  thy 
morning  madness?  It  is  unsafe  for  thyself  and  me, 
Wildrake  —  it  is  unkind  —  I  might  say  ungrateful.' 

'Nay,  do  not  say  that,  my  friend,'  said  the  Cavalier, 
with  some  show  of  feeling;  'and  do  not  judge  of  me  with 
a  severity  that  cannot  apply  to  such  as  I  am.  We  who 
have  lost  our  all  in  these  sad  jars,  who  are  compelled 
to  shift  for  our  living,  not  from  day  to  day,  but  from 
meal  to  meal  —  we  whose  only  hiding-place  is  the  jail, 
whose  prospect  of  final  repose  is  the  gallows,  what  canst 
thou  expect  from  us,  but  to  bear  such  a  lot  with  a  light 
heart,  since  we  should  break  down  under  it  with  a  heavy 
one?' 
.  This  was  spoken  in  a  tone  of  feeling  which  found  a 

112 


WOODSTOCK 

responding  string  in  Everard's  bosom.    He  took  his 
friend's  hand  and  pressed  it  kindly. 

*Nay,  if  I  seemed  harsh  to  thee,  Wildrake,  I  profess 
it  was  for  thine  own  sake  more  than  mine.  I  know  thou 
hast  at  the  bottom  of  thy  levity  as  deep  a  principle  of 
honour  and  feeling  as  ever  governed  a  human  heart. 
But  thou  art  thoughtless,  thou  art  rash;  and  I  protest 
to  thee,  that  wert  thou  to  betray  thyself  in  this  matter 
in  which  I  trust  thee,  the  evil  consequences  to  myself 
would  not  afflict  me  more  than  the  thought  of  putting 
thee  into  such  danger.' 

'Nay,  if  you  take  it  on  that  tone,  Mark,'  said  the 
Cavalier,  making  an  effort  to  laugh,  evidently  that  he 
might  conceal  a  tendency  to  a  different  emotion, '  thou 
wilt  make  children  of  us  both  —  babes  and  sucklings, 
by  the  hilt  of  this  bilbo.  Come,  trust  me;  I  can  be  cau- 
tious when  time  requires  it:  no  man  ever  saw  me  drink 
when  an  alert  was  expected;  and  not  one  poor  pint  of 
wine  will  I  taste  until  I  have  managed  this  matter  for 
thee.  Well,  I  am  thy  secretary  —  clerk,  I  had  forgot  — 
and  carry  thy  dispatches  to  Cromwell,  taking  good  heed 
not  to  be  surprised  or  choused  out  of  my  lump  of  loyalty 
[striking  his  finger  on  the  packet],  and  I  am  to  deliver 
it  to  the  most  loyal  hands  to  which  it  is  most  humbly 
addressed.  Adzooks,  Mark,  think  of  it  a  moment  longer. 
Surely  thou  wilt  not  carry  thy  perverseness  so  far  as  to 
strike  in  with  this  bloody-minded  rebel?  Bid  me  give 
him  three  inches  of  my  dudgeon-dagger,  and  I  will  do  it 
much  more  willingly  than  present  him  with  thy  packet.' 

'Go  to,'  replied  Everard,  'this  is  beyond  our  bargain. 
If  you  will  help  me,  it  is  well;  if  not,  let  me  lose  no  time 
in  debating  with  thee,  since  I  think  every  moment  an 

37  113 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

age  till  the  packet  is  in  the  General's  possession.  It  is 
the  only  way  left  me  to  obtain  some  protection  and  a 
place  of  refuge  for  my  uncle  and  his  daughter.' 

'That  being  the  case/  said  the  CavaUer,  *I  will  not 
spare  the  spur.  My  nag  up  yonder  at  the  town  will  be 
ready  for  the  road  in  a  trice,  and  thou  mayst  reckon  on 
my  being  with  Old  Noll  —  thy  General,  I  mean  —  in  as 
short  time  as  man  and  horse  may  consume  betwixt 
Woodstock  and  Windsor,  where  I  think  I  shall  for  the 
present  find  thy  friend  keeping  possession  where  he  has 
slain.' 

*  Hush,  not  a  word  of  that.  Since  we  parted  last  night, 
I  have  shaped  thee  a  path  which  will  suit  thee  better 
than  to  assume  the  decency  of  language  and  of  outward 
manner  of  which  thou  hast  so  little.  I  have  acquainted 
the  General  that  thou  hast  been  by  bad  example  and 
bad  education  — ' 

'Which  is  to  be  interpreted  by  contraries,  I  hope,'  said 
Wildrake;  'for  sure  I  have  been  as  well  born  and  bred 
up  as  any  lad  of  Leicestershire  might  desire.' 

'  Now,  I  prithee  hush  —  thou  hast,  I  say,  by  bad  ex- 
ample, become  at  one  time  a  Malignant,  and  mixed  in 
the  party  of  the  late  King.  But  seeing  what  things  were 
wrought  in  the  nation  by  the  General,  thou  hast  come 
to  a  clearness  touching  his  calling  to  be  a  great  imple- 
ment in  the  settlement  of  these  distracted  kingdoms. 
This  account  of  thee  will  not  only  lead  him  to  pass  over 
some  of  thy  eccentricities,  should  they  break  out  in 
spite  of  thee,  but  will  also  give  thee  an  interest  with  him 
as  being  more  especially  attached  to  his  own  person.' 

'Doubtless,'  said  Wildrake,  'as  every  fisher  loves  best 
the  trouts  that  are  of  his  own  tickling.' 

114 


WOODSTOCK 

'It  is  likely,  I  think,  he  will  send  thee  hither  with 
letters  to  me,'  said  the  colonel,  'enabling  me  to  put  a 
stop  to  the  proceedings  of  these  sequestrators,  and  to 
give  poor  old  Sir  Henry  Lee  permission  to  linger  out  his 
days  among  the  oaks  he  loves  to  look  upon.  I  have  made 
this  my  request,  to  General  Cromwell,  and  I  think  my 
father's  friendship  and  my  own  may  stretch  so  far  on  his 
regard  without  risk  of  cracking,  especially  standing  mat- 
ters as  they  now  do  —  thou  dost  understand?' 

'Entirely  well,'  said  the  CavaUer.  'Stretch,  quotha! 
I  would  rather  stretch  a  rope  than  hold  commerce  with 
the  old  king-kiUing  ruffian.  But  I  have  said  I  will  be 
guided  by  thee,  Markham,  and  rat  me  but  I  will.' 

'Be  cautious  then,'  said  Everard:  'mark  well  what  he 
does  and  says  —  more  especially  what  he  does,  for  OHver 
is  one  of  those  whose  mind  is  better  known  by  his  ac- 
tions than  by  his  words ;  and  stay  —  I  warrant  thee  thou 
wert  setting  off  without  a  cross  in  thy  purse?' 

'Too  true,  Mark,'  said  Wildrake,  'the  last  noble 
melted  last  night  among  yonder  blackguard  troopers 
of  yours.' 

'Well,  Roger,'  rephed  the  colonel,  'that  is  easily 
mended,'  So  saying,  he  slipped  his  purse  into  his 
friend's  hand.  'But  art  thou  not  an  inconsiderate, 
weather-brained  fellow,  to  set  forth,  as  thou  wert  about 
to  do,  without  anything  to  bear  thy  charges?  What 
couldst  thou  have  done?' 

'Faith,  I  never  thought  of  that.  I  must  have  cried 
"  Stand,"  I  suppose,  to  the  first  pursy  townsman  or 
greasy  grazier  that  I  met  o'  the  heath;  it  is  many  a  good 
fellow's  shift  in  these  bad  times.' 

'Go  to,'  said  Everard;  'be  cautious  —  use  none  of 

115 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

your  loose  acquaintance  —  rule  your  tongue  —  beware 
of  the  wine-pot;  for  there  is  little  danger  if  thou  couldst 
only  but  keep  thyself  sober.  Be  moderate  in  speech, 
and  forbear  oaths  or  vaunting.' 

*In  short,  metamorphose  myself  into  such  a  prig  as 
thou  art,  Mark?  Well,'  said  Wildrake,  'so  far  as  out- 
side will  go,  I  think  I  can  make  a  Hope-on-High  Bomby  ^ 
as  well  as  thou  canst.  Ah!  those  were  merry  days  when 
we  saw  Mills  present  Bomby  at  the  Fortune  playhouse, 
Mark,  ere  I  had  lost  my  laced  cloak  and  the  jewel  in  my 
ear,  or  thou  hadst  gotten  the  wrinkle  on  thy  brow  and 
the  Puritanic  twist  of  thy  mustache.' 

'They  were  like  most  worldly  pleasures,  Wildrake,'  re- 
plied Everard,  'sweet  in  the  mouth  and  bitter  in  diges- 
tion. But  away  with  thee;  and  when  thou  bring'st 
back  my  answer,  thou  wilt  find  me  either  here  or  at  St. 
George's  Inn,  at  the  Uttle  borough.  Good  luck  to  thee. 
Be  but  cautious  how  thou  bearest  thyself.' 

The  colonel  remained  in  deep  meditation.  'I  think,' 
he  said,  'I  have  not  pledged  myself  too  far  to  the  Gen- 
eral. A  breach  between  him  and  the  ParHament  seems 
inevitable,  and  would  throw  England  back  into  civil 
.  war,  of  which  all  men  are  wearied.  He  may  disHke  my 
messenger;  yet  that  I  do  not  greatly  fear.  He  knows  I 
would  choose  such  as  I  can  myself  depend  on,  and  hath 
dealt  enough  with  the  stricter  sort  to  be  aware  that 
there  are  among  them,  as  well  as  elsewhere,  men  who 
can  hide  two  faces  under  one  hood.' 

*  A  Puritanic  character  in  one  of  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  plays. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

For  there  in  lofty  air  was  seen  to  stand 
The  stern  Protector  of  the  conquer'd  land; 
Drawn  in  that  look  with  which  he  wept  and  swore, 
Turn'd  out  the  members,  and  made  fast  the  door. 
Ridding  the  House  of  every  knave  and  drone, 
Forced,  though  it  grieved  his  soul,  to  rule  alone. 

Crabbe,  The  Frank  Courtship. 

Leaving  Colonel  Everard  to  his  meditations,  we  follow 
the  jolly  CavaHer,  his  companion,  who,  before  mounting 
at  the  George,  did  not  fail  to  treat  himself  to  his  morn- 
ing draught  of  eggs  and  muscadine,  to  enable  him  to  face 
the  harvest  wind. 

Although  he  had  suffered  himself  to  be  sunk  in  the 
extravagant  license  which  was  practised  by  the  Cava- 
liers, as  if  to  oppose  their  conduct  in  every  point  to  the 
preciseness  of  their  enemies,  yet  Wildrake,  well  born  and 
well  educated,  and  endowed  with  good  natural  parts, 
and  a  heart  which  even  debauchery,  and  the  wild  life  of 
a  roaring  Cavalier,  had  not  been  able  entirely  to  corrupt, 
moved  on  his  present  embassy  with  a  strange  mixture 
of  feelings,  such  as  perhaps  he  had  never  in  his  life  before 
experienced. 

His  feelings  as  a  loyalist  led  him  to  detest  Cromwell, 
whom  in  other  circumstances  he  would  scarce  have 
wished  to  see,  except  in  a  field  of  battle,  where  he  could 
have  had  the  pleasure  to  exchange  pistol-shots  with 
him.  But  with  this  hatred  there  was  mixed  a  certain 
degree  of  fear.  Always  victorious  wherever  he  fought, 
the  remarkable  person  whom  Wildrake  was  now  ap- 

117 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

proaching  had  acquired  that  influence  over  the  minds 
of  his  enemies  which  constant  success  is  so  apt  to  inspire: 
they  dreaded  while  they  hated  him ;  and  joined  to  these 
feehngs  was  a  restless,  meddling  curiosity,  which  made 
a  particular  feature  in  Wildrake's  character,  who,  hav- 
ing long  had  little  business  of  his  own,  and  caring  no- 
thing about  that  which  he  had,  was  easily  attracted 
by  the  desire  of  seeing  whatever  was  curious  or  interest- 
ing around  him. 

'I  should  like  to  see  the  old  rascal  after  all,'  he  said, 
'were  it  but  to  say  that  I  had  seen  him.' 

He  reached  Windsor  in  the  afternoon,  and  felt  on  his 
arrival  the  strongest  inclination  to  take  up  his  residence 
at  some  of  his  old  haunts,  when  he  had  occasionally  fre- 
quented that  fair  town  in  gayer  days.  But  resisting  all 
temptations  of  this  kind,  he  went  courageously  to  the 
principal  inn,  from  which  its  ancient  emblem,  the  Gar- 
ter, had  long  disappeared.  The  master,  too,  whom 
Wildrake,  experienced  in  his  knowledge  of  landlords 
and  hostelries,  had  remembered  a  dashing  mine  host  of 
Queen  Bess's  school,  had  now  sobered  down  to  the 
temper  of  the  times,  shook  his  head  when  he  spoke  of 
the  Parliament,  wielded  his  spigot  with  the  gravity  of  a 
priest  conducting  a  sacrifice,  wished  England  a  happy 
issue  out  of  all  her  afflictions,  and  greatly  lauded  his 
Excellency  the  Lord  General.  Wildrake  also  remarked 
that  his  wine  was  better  than  it  was  wont  to  be,  the 
Puritans  having  an  excellent  gift  of  detecting  every  fal- 
lacy in  that  matter;  and  that  his  measures  were  less  and 
his  charges  larger  —  circumstances  which  he  was  induced 
to  attend  to,  by  mine  host  talking  a  good  deal  about  his 
conscience. 

ii8 


WOODSTOCK 

He  was  told  by  this  important  personage  that  the 
Lord  General  received  frankly  all  sorts  of  persons;  and 
that  he  might  obtain  access  to  him  next  morning,  at 
eight  o'clock,  for  the  trouble  of  presenting  himself  at  the 
castle  gate,  and  announcing  himself  as  the  bearer  of  dis- 
patches to  his  Excellency. 

To  the  castle  the  disguised  Cavalier  repaired  at  the 
hour  appointed.  Admittance  was  freely  permitted  to 
him  by  the  red-coated  soldier  who,  with  austere  looks, 
and  his  musket  on  his  shoulder,  mounted  guard  at  the 
external  gate  of  that  noble  building.  Wildrake  passed 
through  the  under  ward,  or  court,  gazing  as  he  passed 
upon  the  beautiful  chapel,  which  had  but  lately  re- 
ceived, in  darkness  and  silence,  the  unhonoured  remains 
of  the  slaughtered  King  of  England.  Rough  as  Wildrake 
was,  the  recollection  of  this  circumstance  affected  him 
so  strongly,  that  he  had  nearly  turned  back  in  a  sort 
of  horror,  rather  than  face  the  dark  and  daring  man 
to  whom,  amongst  all  the  actors  in  that  melancholy 
affair,  its  tragic  conclusion  was  chiefly  to  be  imputed. 
But  he  felt  the  necessity  of  subduing  all  sentiments  of 
this  nature,  and  compelled  himself  to  proceed  in  a  nego- 
tiation entrusted  to  his  conduct  by  one  to  whom  he  was 
so  much  obliged  as  Colonel  Everard.  At  the  ascent 
which  passed  by  the  Round  Tower,  he  looked  to  the 
ensign-staff,  from  which  the  banner  of  England  was 
wont  to  float.  It  was  gone,  with  all  its  rich  emblazonry, 
its  gorgeous  quarterings,  and  splendid  embroidery;  and 
in  its  room  waved  that  of  the  Commonwealth,  the  cross 
of  St.  George,  in  its  colours  of  blue  and  red,  not  yet  inter- 
sected by  the  diagonal  cross  of  Scotland,  which  was  soon 
after  assumed,  as  if  in  evidence  of  England's  conquest 

119 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

over  her  ancient  enemy.  This  change  of  ensigns  in- 
creased the  train  of  his  gloomy  reflections,  in  which, 
although  contrary  to  his  wont,  he  became  so  deeply 
wrapped,  that  the  first  thing  which  recalled  him  to  him- 
self was  the  challenge  from  the  sentinel,  accompanied 
with  a  stroke  of  the  butt  of  his  musket  on  the  pavement, 
with  an  emphasis  which  made  Wildrake  start. 

'Whither  away,  and  who  are  you?' 

'The  bearer  of  a  packet,'  answered  Wildrake,  'to  the 
worshipful  the  Lord  General.' 

'  Stand  till  I  call  the  officer  of  the  guard.' 

The  corporal  made  his  appearance,  distinguished 
above  those  of  his  command  by  a  double  quantity  of 
band  round  his  neck,  a  double  height  of  steeple-crowned 
hat,  a  larger  allowance  of  cloak,  and  a  treble  proportion 
of  sour  gravity  of  aspect.  It  might  be  read  on  his  coun- 
tenance that  he  was  one  of  those  resolute  enthusiasts 
to  whom  Oliver  owed  his  conquests,  whose  religious  zeal 
made  them  even  more  than  a  match  for  the  high-spirited 
and  high-born  Cavaliers  that  exhausted  their  valour  in 
vain  defence  of  their  sovereign's  person  and  crown.  He 
looked  with  grave  solemnity  at  Wildrake,  as  if  he  was 
making  in  his  own  mind  an  inventory  of  his  features  and 
dress;  and  having  fully  perused  them,  he  required  'to 
know  his  business.' 

'My  business,'  said  Wildrake,  as  firmly  as  he  could, 
for  the  close  investigation  of  this  man  had  given  him 
some  unpleasant  nervous  sensations  —  '  my  business  is 
with  your  General.' 

'With  his  Excellency  the  Lord  General,  thou  wouldst 
say? '  replied  the  corporal.  '  Thy  speech,  my  friend,  sa- 
vours too  little  of  the  reverence  due  to  his  Excellency.' 

1 20 


WOODSTOCK 

'D — n  his  Excellency!'  was  at  the  lips  of  the  Cava- 
lier; but  prudence  kept  guard,  and  permitted  not  the 
offensive  words  to  escape  the  barrier.  He  only  bowed, 
and  was  silent. 

'Follow  me,'  said  the  starched  figure  whom  he  ad- 
dressed; and  Wildrake  followed  him  accordingly  into  the 
guard-house,  which  exhibited  an  interior  characteristic 
of  the  times,  and  very  different  from  what  such  miUtary 
stations  present  at  the  present  day. 

By  the  fire  sat  two  or  three  musketeers,  listening  to 
one  who  was  expounding  some  reHgious  mystery  to  them. 
He  began  half  beneath  his  breath,  but  in  tones  of  great 
volubility,  which  tones,  as  he  approached  the  conclu- 
sion, became  sharp  and  eager,  as  challenging  either  in- 
stant answer  or  silent  acquiescence.  The  audience 
seemed  to  listen  to  the  speaker  with  immovable  features, 
only  answering  him  with  clouds  of  tobacco-smoke, 
which  they  rolled  from  under  their  thick  mustaches.  On 
a  bench  lay  a  soldier  on  his  face;  whether  asleep  or  in 
a  fit  of  contemplation  it  was  impossible  to  decide.  In 
the  midst  of  the  floor  stood  an  officer,  as  he  seemed  by 
his  embroidered  shoulder-belt  and  scarf  round  his  waist, 
otherwise  very  plainly  attired,  who  was  engaged  in 
drilling  a  stout  bumpkin,  lately  enlisted,  to  the  manual, 
as  it  was  then  used.  The  motions  and  words  of  com- 
mand were  twenty  at  the  very  least;  and  until  they  were 
regularly  brought  to  an  end,  the  corporal  did  not  permit 
Wildrake  either  to  sit  down  or  move  forward  beyond 
the  threshold  of  the  guard-house.  So  he  had  to  Hsten 
in  succession  to  —  '  Poise  your  musket  —  Rest  your 
musket  —  Cock  your  musket  —  Handle  your  primers ' 
—  and  many  other  forgotten  words  of  discipline,  until 

121 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

at  length  the  words,  'Order  your  musket,'  ended  the 
drill  for  the  time. 

*Thy  name,  friend?'  said  the  officer  to  the  recruit, 
when  the  lesson  was  over. 

'Ephraim,'  answered  the  fellow,  with  an  affected 
twang  through  the  nose. 

*And  what  besides  Ephraim?' 

'Ephraim  Cobb,  from  the  godly  city  of  Glocester, 
where  I  have  dwelt  for  seven  years,  serving  apprentice 
to  a  praiseworthy  cordwainer.' 

'It  is  a  goodly  craft,'  answered  the  officer;  'but  cast- 
ing in  thy  lot  with  ours,  doubt  not  that  thou  shalt  be  set 
beyond  thine  awl,  and  thy  last  to  boot.' 

A  grim  smile  of  the  speaker  accompanied  this  poor 
attempt  at  a  pun;  and  then  turning  round  to  the  cor- 
poral, who  stood  two  paces  off,  with  the  face  of  one  who 
seemed  desirous  of  speaking,  said,  '  How  now,  corporal, 
what  tidings?' 

'  Here  is  one  with  a  packet,  an  please  your  Excellency,' 
said  the  corporal.  'Surely  my  spirit  doth  not  rejoice  in 
him,  seeing  I  esteem  him  as  a  wolf  in  sheep's  clothing.' 

By  these  words,  Wildrake  learned  that  he  was  in  the 
actual  presence  of  the  remarkable  person  to  whom  he 
was  commissioned;  and  he  paused  to  consider  in  what 
manner  he  ought  to  address  him. 

The  figure  of  Oliver  Cromwell  was,  as  is  generally 
known,  in  no  way  prepossessing.  He  was  of  middle 
stature,  strong  and  coarsely  made,  with  harsh  and  se- 
vere features,  indicative,  however,  of  much  natural 
sagacity  and  depth  of  thought.  His  eyes  were  grey  and 
piercing;  his  nose  too  large  in  proportion  to  his  other 
features,  and  of  a  reddish  hue. 

122 


WOODSTOCK 

His  manner  of  speaking,  when  he  had  the  purpose  to 
make  himself  distinctly  understood,  was  energetic  and 
forcible,  though  neither  graceful  nor  eloquent.  No  man 
could  on  such  occasions  put  his  meaning  into  fewer  and 
more  decisive  words.  But  when,  as  it  often  happened, 
he  had  a  mind  to  play  the  orator,  for  the  benefit  of  peo- 
ple's ears,  without  enlightening  their  understanding, 
Cromwell  was  wont  to  invest  his  meaning,  or  that  which 
seemed  to  be  his  meaning,  in  such  a  mist  of  words,  sur- 
rounding it  with  so  many  exclusions  and  exceptions,  and 
fortifying  it  with  such  a  labyrinth  of  parentheses,  that 
though  one  of  the  most  shrewd  men  in  England,  he  was, 
perhaps,  the  most  unintelligible  speaker  that  ever  per- 
plexed an  audience.  It  has  been  long  since  said  by  the 
historian,  that  a  collection  of  the  Protector's  speeches 
would  make,  with  a  few  exceptions,  the  most  nonsensical 
book  in  the  world;  but  he  ought  to  have  added,  that 
nothing  could  be  more  nervous,  concise,  and  intelligible 
than  what  he  really  intended  should  be  understood. 

It  was  also  remarked  of  Cromwell,  that,  though  born 
of  a  good  family,  both  by  father  and  mother,  and  al- 
though he  had  the  usual  opportunities  of  education  and 
breeding  connected  with  such  an  advantage,  the  fanatic 
democratic  ruler  could  never  acquire,  or  else  disdained 
to  practise,  the  courtesies  usually  exercised  among  the 
higher  classes  in  their  intercourse  with  each  other.  His 
demeanour  was  so  blunt  as  sometimes  might  be  termed 
clownish,  yet  there  was  in  his  language  and  manner  a 
force  and  energy  corresponding  to  his  character,  which 
impressed  awe,  if  it  did  not  impose  respect;  and  there 
were  even  times  when  that  dark  and  subtle  spirit  ex- 
panded itself,  so  as  almost  to  conciliate  afifection.   The 

123 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

turn  for  humour,  which  displayed  itself  by  fits,  was 
broad,  and  of  a  low,  and  sometimes  practical,  character. 
Something  there  was  in  his  disposition  congenial  to 
that  of  his  countrymen  —  a  contempt  of  folly,  a  hatred 
of  affectation,  and  a  dislike  of  ceremony,  which,  joined 
to  the  strong  intrinsic  qualities  of  sense  and  courage, 
made  him  in  many  respects  not  an  unfit  representative 
of  the  democracy  of  England. 

His  religion  must  always  be  a  subject  of  much  doubt, 
and  probably  of  doubt  which  he  himself  could  hardly 
have  cleared  up.  Unquestionably  there  was  a  time  in  his 
life  when  he  was  sincerely  enthusiastic,  and  when  his 
natural  temper,  slightly  subject  to  hypochondria,  was 
strongly  agitated  by  the  same  fanaticism  which  influ- 
enced so  many  persons  of  the  time.  On  the  other  hand, 
there  were  periods  during  his  poHtical  career  when  we 
certainly  do  him  no  injustice  in  charging  him  with  a 
hypocritical  affectation.  We  shall  probably  judge  him, 
and  others  of  the  same  age,  most  truly,  if  we  suppose 
that  their  religious  professions  were  partly  influential 
in  their  own  breast,  partly  assumed  in  compliance  with 
their  own  interest.  And  so  ingenious  is  the  human  heart 
in  deceiving  itself  as  well  as  others,  that  it  is  probable 
neither  Cromwell  himself  nor  those  making  similar  pre- 
tensions to  distinguished  piety  could  exactly  have  fixed 
the  point  at  which  their  enthusiasm  terminated  and 
their  hypocrisy  commenced;  or  rather,  it  was  a  point  not 
fixed  in  itself,  but  fluctuating  with  the  state  of  health, 
of  good  or  bad  fortune,  of  high  or  low  spirits,  affecting 
the  individual  at  the  period. 

Such  was  the  celebrated  person  who,  turning  round  on 
Wildrake,  and  scanning  his  countenance  closely,  seemed 

124 


WOODSTOCK 

so  little  satisfied  with  what  he  beheld,  that  he  instinct- 
ively hitched  forward  his  belt,  so  as  to  bring  the  handle 
of  his  tuck-sword  within  his  reach.  But  yet,  folding  his 
arms  in  his  cloak,  as  if  upon  second  thoughts  laying 
aside  suspicion,  or  thinking  precaution  beneath  him,  he 
asked  the  Cavaher  what  he  was  and  whence  he  came. 

'A  poor  gentleman,  sir  —  that  is,  my  lord,'  answered 
Wildrake,  'last  from  Woodstock.' 

'And  what  may  your  tidings  be,  sir  gentleman?'  said 
Cromwell,  with  an  emphasis.  '  Truly  I  have  seen  those 
most  willing  to  take  upon  them  that  title  bear  them- 
selves somewhat  short  of  wise  men,  and  good  men,  and 
true  men,  with  all  their  gentiUty.  Yet  gentleman  was 
a  good  title  in  Old  England,  when  men  remembered 
what  it  was  construed  to  mean.' 

'You  say  truly,  sir/  repHed  Wildrake,  suppressing, 
with  difficulty,  some  of  his  usual  wild  expletives;  'for- 
merly gentlemen  were  found  in  gentlemen's  places, 
but  now  the  world  is  so  changed,  that  you  shall  find 
the  broidered  belt  has  changed  place  with  the  under 
spur-leather.' 

'Sayst  thou  me?'  said  the  General.  'I  profess  thou 
art  a  bold  companion,  that  can  bandy  words  so  wan- 
tonly: thou  ring'st  somewhat  too  loud  to  be  good  metal, 
methinks.  And  once  again,  what  are  thy  tidings  with 
me?' 

'This  packet,'  said  Wildrake,  'commended  to  your 
hands  by  Colonel  Markham  Everard.' 

'Alas,  I  must  have  mistaken  thee,'  answered  Crom- 
well, mollified  at  the  mention  of  a  man's  name  whom  he 
had  great  desire  to  make  his  own;  'forgive  us,  good 
friend,  for  such,  we  doubt  not,  thou  art.  Sit  thee  down, 

125 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

and  commune  with  thyself  as  thou  mayst,  until  we  have 
examined  the  contents  of  thy  packet.  Let  him  be  looked 
to,  and  have  what  he  lacks.'  So  saying,  the  General  left 
the  guard-house,  where  Wildrake  took  his  seat  in  the 
corner,  and  awaited  with  patience  the  issue  of  his  mis- 
sion. 

The  soldiers  now  thought  themselves  obliged  to  treat 
him  with  more  consideration,  and  offered  him  a  pipe 
of  Trinidado,  and  a  black-jack  filled  with  October.  But 
the  look  of  Cromwell,  and  the  dangerous  situation  in 
which  he  might  be  placed  by  the  least  chance  of  detec- 
tion, induced  Wildrake  to  decline  these  hospitable  offers, 
and  stretching  back  in  his  chair  and  affecting  slumber, 
he  escaped  notice  or  conversation,  until  a  sort  of  aide- 
de-camp,  or  miHtary  officer,  in  attendance  came  to  sum- 
mon him  to  Cromwell's  presence. 

By  this  person  he  was  guided  to  a  postern-gate, 
through  which  he  entered  the  body  of  the  castle,  and 
penetrating  through  many  private  passages  and  stair- 
cases, he  at  length  was  introdijced  into  a  small  cabinet 
or  parlour,  in  which  was  much  rich  furniture,  some  bear- 
ing the  royal  cipher  displayed,  but  all  confused  and  dis- 
arranged, together  with  several  paintings  in  massive 
frames,  having  their  faces  turned  towards  the  wall,  as 
if  they  had  been  taken  down  for  the  purpose  of  being 
removed. 

In  this  scene  of  disorder,  the  victorious  General  of  the 
Commonwealth  was  seated  in  a  large  easy-chair,  cov- 
ered with  damask,  and  deeply  embroidered,  the  splend- 
our of  which  made  a  strong  contrast  with  the  plain, 
and  even  homely  character  of  his  apparel;  although  in 
look  and  action  he  seemed  like  one  who  felt  that  the  seat 

126 


WOODSTOCK 

which  might  have  in  former  days  held  a  prince  was  not 
too  much  distinguished  for  his  own  fortunes  and  ambi- 
tion. Wildrake  stood  before  him,  nor  did  he  ask  him  to 
sit  down. 

'Pearson,'  said  Cromwell,  addressing  himself  to  the 
officer  in  attendance,  'wait  in  the  gallery,  but  be  within 
call.'  Pearson  bowed,  and  was  retiring.  'Who  are  in 
the  gallery  besides? ' 

'Worthy  Mr.  Gordon,  the  chaplain,  was  holding  forth 
but  now  to  Colonel  Overton  and  four  captains  of  your 
Excellency's  regiment.' 

'We  would  have  it  so,'  said  the  General:  'we  would 
not  there  were  any  corner  in  our  dwelling  where  the 
hungry  soul  might  not  meet  with  manna.  Was  the  good 
man  carried  onward  in  his  discourse?' 

'Mightily  borne  through,'  said  Pearson;  'and  he  was 
touching  the  rightful  claims  which  the  army,  and  espe- 
cially your  Excellency,  hath  acquired,  by  becoming  the 
instruments  in  the  great  work  —  not  instruments  to  be 
broken  asunder  and  cast  away  when  the  day  of  their 
service  is  over,  but  to  be  preserved  and  held  precious, 
and  prized  for  their  honourable  and  faithful  labours, 
for  which  they  have  fought  and  marched,  and  fasted 
and  prayed,  and  suffered  cold  and  sorrow;  while  others, 
who  would  now  gladly  see  them  disbanded,  and  broken, 
and  cashiered,  eat  of  the  fat  and  drink  of  the  strong.' 

'Ah,  good  man!'  said  Cromwell,  'and  did  he  touch 
upon  this  so  feelingly?  I  could  say  something  —  but 
not  now.  Begone,  Pearson,  to  the  gallery.  Let  not  our 
friends  lay  aside  their  swords,  but  watch  as  well  as 
pray.' 

Pearson  retired;  and  the  General,  holding  the  letter 
127 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

of  Everard  in  his  hand,  looked  again  for  a  long  while 
fixedly  at  Wildrake,  as  if  considering  in  what  strain  he 
should  address  him. 

When  he  did  speak,  it  was,  at  first,  in  one  of  those 
ambiguous  discourses  which  we  have  already  described, 
and  by  which  it  was  very  difficult  for  any  one  to  under- 
stand his  meaning,  if,  indeed,  he  knew  it  himself.  We 
shall  be  as  concise  in  our  statement  as  our  desire  to 
give  the  very  words  of  a  man  so  extraordinary  will  per- 
mit. 

'This  letter,'  he  said,  'you  have  brought  us  from  your 
master,  or  patron,  Markham  Everard;  truly  an  excellent 
and  honourable  gentleman  as  ever  bore  a  sword  upon 
his  thigh,  and  one  who  hath  ever  distinguished  himself 
in  the  great  work  of  delivering  these  three  poor  and  un- 
happy nations.  Answer  me  not  —  I  know  what  thou 
wouldst  say.  And  this  letter  he  hath  sent  to  me  by 
thee,  his  clerk,  or  secretary,  in  whom  he  hath  confidence, 
and  in  whom  he  prays  me  to  have  trust,  that  there  may 
be  a  careful  messenger  between  us.  And  lastly,  he  hath 
sent  thee  to  me  —  do  not  answer  —  I  know  what  thou 
wouldst  say  —  to  me,  who,  albeit  I  am  of  that  small 
consideration,  that  it  would  be  too  much  honour  for 
me  even  to  bear  a  halberd  in  this  great  and  victorious 
army  of  England,  am  nevertheless  exalted  to  the  rank 
of  holding  the  guidance  and  the  leading-staff  thereof. 
Nay,  do  not  answer,  my  friend  —  I  know  what  thou 
wouldst  say.  Now,  when  communing  thus  together, 
our  discourse  taketh,  in  respect  to  what  I  have  said,  a 
threefold  argument,  or  division:  First,  as  it  concerneth 
thy  master;  secondly,  as  it  concerneth  us  and  our  office; 
thirdly  and  lastly,  as  it  toucheth  thyself.  Now,  as  con- 

128 


WOODSTOCK 

cerning  this  good  and  worthy  gentleman,  Colonel  Mark- 
ham  Everard,  truly  he  hath  played  the  man  from  the 
beginning  of  these  unhappy  buffetings,  not  turning  to 
the  right  or  to  the  left,  but  holding  ever  in  his  eye  the 
mark  at  which  he  aimed.  Ay,  truly,  a  faithful,  honour- 
able gentleman,  and  one  who  may  well  call  me  friend; 
and  truly  I  am  pleased  to  think  that  he  doth  so.  Never- 
theless, in  this  vale  of  tears,  we  must  be  governed  less 
by  our  private  respects  and  partialities  than  by  those 
higher  principles  and  points  of  duty  whereupon  the 
good  Colonel  Markham  Everard  hath  ever  framed  his 
purposes,  as,  truly,  I  have  endeavoured  to  form  mine, 
that  we  may  all  act  as  becometh  good  Englishmen  and 
worthy  patriots.  Then,  as  for  Woodstock,  it  is  a  great 
thing  which  the  good  colonel  asks,  that  it  should  be  taken 
from  the  spoil  of  the  godly,  and  left  in  keeping  of  the 
men  of  Moab,  and  especially  of  the  MaUgnant,  Henry 
Lee,  whose  hand  hath  been  ever  against  us  when  he 
might  find  room  to  raise  it  —  I  say,  he  hath  asked  a 
great  thing,  both  in  respect  of  himself  and  me.  For  we 
of  this  poor  but  godly  army  of  England  are  holden,  by 
those  of  the  Parhament,  as  men  who  should  render  in 
spoil  for  them,  but  be  no  sharer  of  it  ourselves;  even  as 
the  buck,  which  the  hounds  pull  to  earth,  furnisheth  no 
part  of  their  own  food,  but  they  are  lashed  off  from  the 
carcass  with  whips,  Uke  those  which  require  punishment 
for  their  forwardness,  not  reward  for  their  services.  Yet 
I  speak  not  this  so  much  in  respect  of  this  grant  of 
Woodstock,  in  regard  that,  perhaps,  their  Lordships 
of  the  Council,  and  also  the  Committeemen  of  this 
Parliament,  may  graciously  think  they  have  given  me 
a  portion  in  the  matter,  in  relation  that  my  kinsman 

37  129 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Desborough  hath  an  interest  allowed  him  therein;  which 
interest,  as  he  hath  well  deserved  it  for  his  true  and 
faithful  service  to  these  unhappy  and  devoted  countries, 
so  it  would  ill  become  me  to  diminish  the  same  to  his 
prejudice,  unless  it  were  upon  great  and  public  respects. 
Thus  thou  seest  how  it  stands  with  me,  my  honest 
friend,  and  in  what  mind  I  stand  touching  thy  master's 
request  to  me;  which  yet  I  do  not  say  that  I  can  alto- 
gether, or  unconditionally,  grant  or  refuse,  but  only 
tell  my  simple  thoughts  with  regard  thereto.  Thou 
understandest  me,  I  doubt  not?' 

Now,  Roger  Wildrake,  with  all  the  attention  he  had 
been  able  to  pay  to  the  Lord  General's  speech,  had  got 
so  much  confused  among  the  various  clauses  of  the 
harangue,  that  his  brain  was  bewildered,  like  that  of  a 
country  clown  when  he  chances  to  get  himself  involved 
among  a  crowd  of  carriages,  and  cannot  stir  a  step  to 
get  out  of  the  way  of  one  of  them,  without  being  in 
danger  of  being  ridden  over  by  the  others. 

The  General  saw  his  look  of  perplexity,  and  began  a 
new  oration,  to  the  same  purpose  as  before:  spoke  of 
his  love  for  his  kind  friend  the  colonel;  his  regard  for  his 
pious  and  godly  kinsman.  Master  Desborough;  the  great 
importance  of  the  palace  and  park  of  Woodstock;  the 
determination  of  the  Parliament  that  it  should  be  con- 
fiscated, and  the  produce  brought  into  the  coffers  of  the 
state ;  his  own  deep  veneration  for  the  authority  of  Par- 
liament, and  his  no  less  deep  sense  of  the  injustice  done 
to  the  army;  how  it  was  his  wish  and  will  that  all  mat- 
ters should  be  settled  in  an  amicable  and  friendly 
manner,  without  self-seeking,  debate,  or  strife,  betwixt 
those  who  had  been  the  hands  acting  and  such  as  had 

130 


WOODSTOCK 

been  the  heads  governing  in  that  great  national  cause; 
how  he  was  willing,  truly  willing,  to  contribute  to  this 
work,  by  laying  down,  not  his  commission  only,  but  his 
life  also,  if  it  were  requested  of  him,  or  could  be  granted 
with  safety  to  the  poor  soldiers,  to  whom,  poor  silly 
men,  he  was  bound  to  be  as  a  father,  seeing  that 
they  had  followed  him  with  the  duty  and  affection  of 
children. 

And  here  he  arrived  at  another  dead  pause,  leaving 
Wildrake  as  uncertain  as  before  whether  it  was  or  was 
not  his  purpose  to  grant  Colonel  Everard  the  powers 
he  had  asked  for  the  protection  of  Woodstock  against 
the  Parliamentary  Commissioners.  Internally  he  began 
to  entertain  hopes  that  the  justice  of  Heaven,  or  the 
effects  of  remorse,  had  confounded  the  regicide's  under- 
standing. But  no,  he  could  see  nothing  but  sagacity  in 
that  steady,  stern  eye,  which,  while  the  tongue  poured 
forth  its  periphrastic  language  in  such  profusion,  seemed 
to  watch  with  severe  accuracy  the  effect  which  his  ora- 
tory produced  on  the  listener. 

'Egad,'  thought  the  Cavalier  to  himself,  becoming  a 
little  familiar  with  the  situation  in  which  he  was  placed, 
and  rather  impatient  of  a  conversation  which  led  to  no 
visible  conclusion  or  termination,  *if  Noll  were  the  devil 
himself,  as  he  is  the  devil's  darling,  I  will  not  be  thus 
nose-led  by  him.  I  'U  e'en  brusque  it  a  little,  if  he  goes 
on  at  this  rate,  and  try  if  I  can  bring  him  to  a  more 
intelligible  mode  of  speaking.' 

Entertaining  this  bold  purpose,  but  half  afraid  to 
execute  it,  Wildrake  lay  by  for  an  opportunity  of  mak- 
ing the  attempt,  while  Cromwell  was  apparently  unable 
to  express  his  own  meaning.  He  was  already  beginning 

131 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

a  third  panegyric  upon  Colonel  Everard,  with  sundry 
varied  expressions  of  his  own  wish  to  oblige  him,  when 
Wildrake  took  the  opportunity  to  strike  in,  on  the 
General's  making  one  of  his  oratorical  pauses. 

'So  please  you,'  he  said,  bluntly,  'your  worship  has 
already  spoken  on  two  topics  of  your  discourse,  your 
own  worthiness  and  that  of  my  master,  Colonel  Ever- 
ard. But,  to  enable  me  to  do  mine  errand,  it  would  be 
necessary  to  bestow  a  few  words  on  the  third  head.' 

'The  third!'  said  Cromwell. 

'Ay,'  said  Wildrake,  'which,  in  your  honour's  sub- 
division of  your  discourse,  touched  on  my  imworthy  self. 
What  am  I  to  do  —  what  portion  am  I  to  have  in  this 
matter?' 

Oliver  started  at  once  from  the  tone  of  voice  he  had 
hitherto  used,  and  which  somewhat  resembled  the  purr- 
ing of  a  domestic  cat,  into  the  growl  of  the  tiger  when 
about  to  spring.  '  Thy  portion,  jail-bird ! '  he  exclaimed, 
'  the  gallows :  thou  shalt  hang  as  high  as  Haman,  if  thou 
betray  counsel!  But,'  he  added,  softening  his  voice, 
'keep  it  like  a  true  man,  and  my  favour  will  be  the 
making  of  thee.  Come  hither;  thou  art  bold,  I  see, 
though  somewhat  saucy.  Thou  hast  been  a  Malignant, 
so  writes  my  worthy  friend  Colonel  Everard;  but  thou 
hast  now  given  up  that  falling  cause.  I  tell  thee,  friend, 
not  all  that  the  Parliament  or  the  army  could  do  would 
have  pulled  down  the  Stuarts  out  of  their  high  places, 
saving  that  Heaven  had  a  controversy  with  them.  Well, 
it  is  a  sweet  and  comely  thing  to  buckle  on  one's  armour 
in  behalf  of  Heaven's  cause;  otherwise  truly,  for  mine 
own  part,  these  men  might  have  remained  upon  the 
throne  even  unto  this  day.   Neither  do  I  blame  any  for 

132 


WOODSTOCK 

aiding  them,  until  these  successive  great  Judgments 
have  overwhelmed  them  and  their  house.  I  am  not  a 
bloody  man,  having  in  me  the  feeling  of  human  frailty; 
but,  friend,  whosoever  putteth  his  hand  to  the  plough, 
in  the  great  actings  which  are  now  on  foot  in  these  na- 
tions, had  best  beware  that  he  do  not  look  back;  for 
rely  upon  my  simple  word,  that,  if  you  fail  me,  I  will 
not  spare  on  you  one  foot's  length  of  the  gallows  of  Ha- 
man.  Let  me  therefore  know,  at  a  word,  if  the  leaven 
of  thy  malignancy  is  altogether  drubbed  out  of  thee?' 

'Your  honourable  lordship,'  said  the  Cavalier,  shrug- 
ging up  his  shoulders, '  has  done  that  for  most  of  us,  so 
far  as  cudgelling  to  some  tune  can  perform  it.' 

'Sayst  thou?'  said  the  General,  with  a  grim  smile  on 
his  lip,  which  seemed  to  intimate  that  he  was  not  quite 
inaccessible  to  flattery;  'yea,  truly,  thou  dost  not  lie  in 
that:  we  have  been  an  instrument.  Neither  are  we,  as  I 
have  already  hinted,  so  severely  bent  against  those  who 
have  striven  against  us  as  Malignants  as  others  may  be. 
The  Parliament-men  best  know  their  own  interest  and 
their  own  pleasure;  but,  to  my  poor  thinking,  it  is  full 
time  to  close  these  jars,  and  to  allow  men  of  all  kinds 
the  means  of  doing  service  to  their  country;  and  we 
think  it  will  be  thy  fault  if  thou  art  not  employed  to 
good  purpose  for  the  state  and  thyself,  on  condition 
thou  puttest  away  the  old  man  entirely  from  thee,  and 
givest  thy  earnest  attention  to  what  I  have  to  tell  thee.' 

'Your  lordship  need  not  doubt  my  attention,'  said  the 
Cavalier. 

And  the  republican  General,  after  another  pause,  as 
one  who  gave  his  confidence  not  without  hesitation,  pro- 
ceeded to  explain  his  views  with  a  distinctness  which  he 

133 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

seldom  used,  yet  not  without  his  being  a  little  biassed 
now  and  then  by  his  long  habits  of  circumlocution 
which  indeed  he  never  laid  entirely  aside,  save  in  the 
field  of  battle. 

'Thou  seest/  he  said,  'my  friend,  how  things  stand 
with  me.  The  Parliament,  I  care  not  who  knows  it,  love 
me  not;  still  less  do  the  Council  of  State,  by  whom 
they  manage  the  executive  government  of  the  kingdom. 
I  cannot  tell  why  they  nourish  suspicion  against  me, 
unless  it  is  because  I  will  not  deliver  this  poor  innocent 
army,  which  has  followed  me  in  so  many  military  ac- 
tions, to  be  now  pulled  asunder,  broken  piecemeal  and 
reduced,  so  that  they  who  have  protected  the  state  at 
the  expense  of  their  blood  will  not  have,  perchance,  the 
means  of  feeding  themselves  by  their  labour;  which, 
methinks,  were  hard  measure,  since  it  is  taking  from 
Esau  his  birthright,  even  without  giving  him  a  poor  mess 
of  pottage.' 

*Esau  is  likely  to  help  himself,  I  think,'  replied  Wild- 
rake. 

'Truly,  thou  sayst  wisely,'  replied  the  General:  'it  is 
ill  starving  an  armed  man,  if  there  is  food  to  be  had  for 
taking;  nevertheless,  far  be  it  from  me  to  encourage 
rebelUon,  or  want  of  due  subordination  to  these  our 
rulers.  I  would  only  petition  in  a  due  and  becoming,  a 
sweet  and  harmonious,  manner  that  they  would  Hsten 
to  our  conditions  and  consider  our  necessities.  But,  sir, 
looking  on  me,  and  estimating  me  so  little  as  they  do, 
you  must  think  that  it  would  be  a  provocation  in  me 
towards  the  Council  of  State,  as  well  as  the  Parliament, 
if,  simply  to  gratify  your  worthy  master,  I  were  to  act 
contrary  to  their  purposes,  or  deny  currency  to  the  com- 

134 


WOODSTOCK 

mission  under  their  authority,  which  is  as  yet  the  high- 
est in  the  state  —  and  long  may  it  be  so  for  me  —  to 
carry  on  the  sequestration  which  they  intend.  And  would 
it  not  also  be  said  that  I  was  lending  myself  to  the 
Malignant  interest,  affording  this  den  of  the  blood- 
thirsty and  lascivious  tyrants  of  yore  to  be  in  this  our 
day  a  place  of  refuge  to  that  old  and  inveterate  Amale- 
kite.  Sir  Henry  Lee,  to  keep  possession  of  the  place  in 
which  he  hath  so  long  glorified  himself?  Truly  it  would 
be  a  perilous  matter.' 

'Am  I  then  to  report,'  said  Wildrake, '  an  it  please  you, 
that  you  cannot  stead  Colonel  Everard  in  this  matter?' 

'Unconditionally,  ay;  but,  taken  conditionally,  the 
answer  may  be  otherwise,'  answered  Cromwell.  'I  see 
thou  art  not  able  to  fathom  my  purpose,  and  therefore 
I  will  partly  unfold  it  to  thee.  But  take  notice  that, 
should  thy  tongue  betray  my  counsel,  save  in  so  far  as 
carrying  it  to  thy  master,  by  all  the  blood  which  has 
been  shed  in  these  wild  times,  thou  shalt  die  a  thousand 
deaths  in  one!' 

'Do  not  fear  me,  sir,'  said  Wildrake,  whose  natural 
boldness  and  carelessness  of  character  was  for  the  pres- 
ent time  borne  down  and  quelled,  like  that  of  falcons  in 
the  presence  of  the  eagle. 

'Hear  me,  then,'  said  Cromwell,  'and  let  no  syllable 
escape  thee.  Knowest  thou  not  the  young  Lee  whom 
they  call  Albert,  a  Malignant  like  his  father,  and  one 
who  went  up  with  the  Young  Man  to  that  last  rufHe 
which  we  had  with  him  at  Worcester  —  may  we  be 
grateful  for  the  victory!' 

'I  know  there  is  such  a  young  gentleman  as  Albert 
Lee,'  said  Wildrake. 

135 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'And  knowest  thou  not  —  I  speak  not  by  way  of  pry- 
ing into  the  good  colonel's  secrets,  but  only  as  it  behoves 
me  to  know  something  of  the  matter,  that  I  may  best 
judge  how  I  am  to  serve  him  —  knowest  thou  not  that 
thy  master,  Markham  Everard,  is  a  suitor  after  the 
sister  of  this  same  Mahgnant,  a  daughter  of  the  old 
keeper,  called  Sir  Henry  Lee?' 

'All  this  I  have  heard,'  said  Wildrake,  'nor  can  I  deny 
that  I  believe  in  it.' 

'Well  then,  go  to.  When  the  young  man  Charles 
Stuart  fled  from  the  field  of  Worcester,  and  was  by  sharp 
chase  and  pursuit  compelled  to  separate  himself  from  his 
followers,  I  know  by  sure  inteUigence  that  this  Albert 
Lee  was  one  of  the  last  who  remained  with  him,  if  not 
indeed  the  very  last.' 

'It  was  deviHsh  Uke  him,' said  the  Cavalier,  without 
sufficiently  weighing  his  expressions,  considering  in  what 
presence  they  were  to  be  uttered.  'And  I  '11  uphold  him 
with  my  rapier  to  be  a  true  chip  of  the  old  block.' 

*Ha,  swearest  thou?'  said  the  General.  'Is  this  thy 
reformation? ' 

'I  never  swear,  so  please  you,'  replied  Wildrake,  recol- 
lecting himself, '  except  there  is  some  mention  of  Malig- 
nants  and  Cavaliers  in  my  hearing;  and  then  the  old 
habit  returns,  and  I  swear  like  one  of  Goring's  troopers.' 

'Out  upon  thee,'  said  the  General;  'what  can  it  avail 
thee  to  practise  a  profanity  so  horrible  to  the  ears  of 
ochers,  and  which  brings  no  emolument  to  him  who  uses 
it?' 

'There  are,  doubtless,  more  profitable  sins  in  the 
world  than  the  barren  and  unprofitable  vice  of  swearing,' 
was  the  answer  which  rose  to  the  lips  of  the  Cavalier; 

136 


WOODSTOCK 

but  that  was  exchanged  for  a  profession  of  regret  for 
having  given  offence.  The  truth  was,  the  discourse  be- 
gan to  take  a  turn  which  rendered  it  more  interesting 
than  ever  to  Wildrake,  who  therefore  determined  not  to 
lose  the  opportunity  for  obtaining  possession  of  the 
secret  that  seemed  to  be  suspended  on  Cromwell's  lips; 
and  that  could  only  be  through  means  of  keeping  guard 
upon  his  own. 

'What  sort  of  a  house  is  Woodstock?'  said  the  Gen- 
eral, abruptly. 

'An  old  mansion,'  said  Wildrake,  in  reply;  'and,  so 
far  as  I  could  judge  by  a  single  night's  lodgings,  having 
abundance  of  back-stairs,  also  subterranean  passages, 
and  all  the  communications  under  ground  which  are 
common  in  old  raven-nests  of  the  sort.' 

'And  places  for  concealing  priests,  unquestionably,' 
said  Cromwell.  'It  is  seldom  that  such  ancient  houses 
lack  secret  stalls  wherein  to  mew  up  these  calves  of 
Bethel.' 

'Your  Honour's  Excellency,'  said  Wildrake,  'may 
swear  to  that.' 

'I  swear  not  at  all,'  repHed  the  General,  drily.  'But 
what  think'st  thou,  good  fellow?  I  will  ask  thee  a  blunt 
question  —  Where  will  those  two  Worcester  fugitives 
that  thou  wottest  of  be  more  Hkely  to  take  shelter  — 
and  that  they  must  be  sheltered  somewhere,  I  well  know 
—  than  in  this  same  old  palace,  with  all  the  corners  and 
concealments  whereof  young  Albert  hath  been  ac- 
quainted ever  since  his  earhest  infancy? ' 

'Truly,'  said  Wildrake,  making  an  effort  to  answer  the 
question  with  seeming  indifference,  while  the  possibility 
of  such  an  event,  and  its  consequences,  flashed  fearfully 

137 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

upon  his  mind  —  *  truly,  I  should  be  of  your  honour's 
opinion,  but  that  I  think  the  company  who,  by  the  com- 
mission of  ParHament,  have  occupied  Woodstock  are 
likely  to  fright  them  thence,  as  a  cat  scares  doves  from  a 
pigeon-house.  The  neighbourhood,  with  reverence,  of 
Generals  Desborough  and  Harrison  will  suit  ill  with 
fugitives  from  Worcester  field.* 

*I  thought  as  much,  and  so,  indeed,  would  I  have  it,' 
answered  the  General.  'Long  may  it  be  ere  our  names 
shall  be  aught  but  a  terror  to  our  enemies!  But  in  this 
matter,  if  thou  art  an  active  plotter  for  thy  master's 
interest,  thou  mightst,  I  should  think,  work  out  some- 
thing favourable  to  his  present  object.' 

'My  brain  is  too  poor  to  reach  the  depth  of  your 
honourable  purpose,'  said  Wildrake. 

'Listen,  then,  and  let  it  be  to  profit,'  answered  Crom- 
well. 'Assuredly  the  conquest  at  Worcester  was  a  great 
and  crowning  mercy;  yet  might  we  seem  to  be  but  small 
in  our  thankfulness  for  the  same,  did  we  not  do  what  in 
us  lies  towards  the  ultimate  improvement  and  final  con- 
clusion of  the  great  work  which  has  been  thus  prosper- 
ous in  our  hands,  professing,  in  pure  humihty  and  single- 
ness of  heart,  that  we  do  not,  in  any  way,  deserve  our 
instrumentality  to  be  remembered,  nay,  would  rather 
pray  and  entreat  that  our  name  and  fortunes  were  for- 
gotten than  that  the  great  work  were  in  itself  incom- 
plete. Nevertheless,  truly,  placed  as  we  now  are,  it  con- 
cerns us  more  nearly  than  others  —  that  is  if  so  poor 
creatures  should  at  all  speak  of  themselves  as  concerned, 
whether  more  or  less,  with  these  changes  which  have 
been  wrought  around,  not,  I  say,  by  ourselves,  or  our 
own  power,  but  by  the  destiny  to  which  we  were  called, 

138 


WOODSTOCK 

fulfilling  the  same  with  all  meekness  and  humility  —  I 
say,  it  concerns  us  nearly  that  all  things  should  be  done 
in  conformity  with  the  great  work  which  hath  been 
wrought,  and  is  yet  working,  in  these  lands.  Such  is  my 
plain  and  simple  meaning.  Nevertheless,  it  is  much  to 
be  desired  that  this  young  man  —  this  King  of  Scots,  as 
he  called  himself  —  this  Charles  Stuart  —  should  not 
escape  forth  from  the  nation,  where  his  arrival  has 
wrought  so  much  disturbance  and  bloodshed.' 

'I  have  no  doubt,'  said  the  Cavalier,  looking  down, 
'that  your  lordship's  wisdom  hath  directed  all  things  as 
they  may  best  lead  towards  such  a  consummation;  and  I 
pray  your  pains  may  be  paid  as  they  deserve.' 

*I  thank  thee,  friend,'  said  Cromwell,  with  much 
humility;  'doubtless  we  shall  meet  our  reward,  being  in 
the  hands  of  a  good  paymaster,  who  never  passeth 
Saturday  night.  But  understand  me,  friend  —  I  desire 
no  more  than  my  own  share  in  the  good  work.  I  would 
heartily  do  what  poor  kindness  I  can  to  your  worthy 
master,  and  even  to  you  in  your  degree  —  for  such  as  I 
do  not  converse  with  ordinary  men  that  our  presence 
may  be  forgotten  like  an  everyday's  occurrence.  We 
speak  to  men  like  thee  for  their  reward  or  their  punish- 
ment; and  I  trust  it  will  be  the  former  which  thou  in 
thine  office  wilt  merit  at  my  hand.' 

'Your  honour,'  said  Wildrake,  'speaks  like  one  ac- 
customed to  command.' 

'True;  men's  minds  are  likened  to  those  of  my  degree 
by  fear  and  reverence,'  said  the  General;  'but  enough  of 
that,  desiring,  as  I  do,  no  other  dependency  on  my 
special  person  than  is  alike  to  us  all  upon  that  which  is 
above  us.  But  I  would  desire  to  cast  this  golden  ball  into 

139 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

your  master's  lap.  He  hath  served  against  this  Charles 
Stuart  and  his  father;  but  he  is  a  kinsman  near  to  the 
old  knight,  Lee,  and  stands  well  affected  towards  his 
daughter.  Thou  also  wilt  keep  a  watch,  my  friend  — 
that  ruMng  look  of  thine  will  procure  thee  the  confi- 
dence of  every  Malignant,  and  the  prey  cannot  approach 
this  cover,  as  though  to  shelter,  like  a  coney  in  the  rocks, 
but  thou  wilt  be  sensible  of  his  presence.' 

*  I  make  a  shift  to  comprehend  your  Excellency,'  said 
the  Cavalier;  'and  I  thank  you  heartily  for  the  good 
opinion  you  have  put  upon  me,  and  which  I  pray  I  may 
have  some  handsome  opportunity  of  deserving,  that  I 
may  show  my  gratitude  by  the  event.  But  still,  with 
reverence,  your  Excellency's  scheme  seems  unlikely 
while  Woodstock  remains  in  possession  of  the  sequestra- 
tors. Both  the  old  knight  and  his  son,  and  far  more  such 
a  fugitive  as  your  honour  hinted  at,  will  take  special  care 
not  to  approach  it  till  they  are  removed.' 

*  It  is  for  that  I  have  been  dealing  with  thee  thus  long,' 
said  the  General.  '  I  told  thee  that  I  was  something  un- 
willing, upon  slight  occasion,  to  dispossess  the  seques- 
trators by  my  own  proper  warrant,  although  having, 
perhaps,  sufficient  authority  in  the  state  both  to  do  so 
and  to  despise  the  murmurs  of  those  who  blame  me.  In 
brief,  I  would  be  loth  to  tamper  with  my  privileges,  and 
make  experiments  between  their  strength  and  the 
powers  of  the  commission  granted  by  others,  without 
pressing  need,  or  at  least  great  prospect  of  advantage. 
So,  if  thy  colonel  will  undertake,  for  his  love  of  the  re- 
public, to  find  the  means  of  preventing  its  worst  and 
nearest  danger,  which  must  needs  occur  from  the  escape 
of  this  Young  Man,  and  will  do  his  endeavour  to  stay 

140 


WOODSTOCK 

him,  in  case  his  flight  should  lead  him  to  Woodstock, 
which  I  hold  very  likely,  I  will  give  thee  an  order  to  these 
sequestrators  to  evacuate  the  palace  instantly,  and  to 
the  next  troop  of  my  regiment,  which  Ues  at  Oxford,  to 
turn  them  out  by  the  shoulders,  if  they  make  any 
scruples,  —  ay,  even,  for  example's  sake,  if  they  drag 
Desborough  out  foremost,  though  he  be  wedded  to  my 
sister.' 

'So  please  you,  sir,'  said  Wildrake,  'and  with  your 
most  powerful  warrant,  I  trust  I  might  expel  the  Com- 
missioners, even  without  the  aid  of  your  most  warlike 
and  devout  troopers.' 

'That  is  what  I  am  least  anxious  about,'  replied  the 
General :  '  I  should  like  to  see  the  best  of  them  sit  after  I 
had  nodded  to  them  to  begone  —  always  excepting  the 
worshipful  House,  in  whose  name  our  commissions  run, 
but  who,  as  some  think,  will  be  done  with  pohtics  ere  it 
be  time  to  renew  them.  Therefore,  what  chiefly  con- 
cerns me  to  know  is,  whether  thy  master  will  embrace  a 
traffic  which  hath  such  a  fair  promise  of  profit  with  it. 
I  am  well  convinced  that,  with  a  scout  Uke  thee,  who 
hast  been  in  the  CavaHers'  quarters,  and  canst,  I 
should  guess,  resume  thy  drinking,  ruffianly,  health- 
quaffing  manners  whenever  thou  hast  a  mind,  he  must 
discover  where  this  Stuart  hath  ensconced  himself. 
Either  the  young  Lee  will  visit  the  old  one  in  person,  or 
he  will  write  to  him,  or  hold  communication  with  him  by 
letter.  At  all  events,  Markham  Everard  and  thou  must 
have  an  eye  in  every  hair  of  your  head.'  While  he  spoke, 
a  flush  passed  over  his  brow,  he  rose  from  his  chair,  and 
paced  the  apartment  in  agitation.  'Woe  to  you  if  you 
suffer  the  young  adventurer  to  escape  me!    You  had 

141 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

better  be  in  the  deepest  dungeon  in  Europe  than  breathe 
the  air  of  England,  should  you  but  dream  of  playing  me 
false.  I  have  spoken  freely  to  thee,  fellow  —  more  freely 
than  is  my  wont;  the  time  required  it.  But,  to  share 
my  confidence  is  like  keeping  a  watch  over  a  powder- 
magazine:  the  least  and  most  insignificant  spark  blows 
thee  to  ashes.  Tell  your  master  what  I  said,  but  not  how 
I  said  it.  Fie,  that  I  should  have  been  betrayed  into  this 
distemperature  of  passion!  Begone,  sirrah.  Pearson 
shall  bring  thee  sealed  orders.  Yet,  stay  —  thou  hast 
something  to  ask.' 

'I  would  know,'  said  Wildrake,  to  whom  the  visible 
anxiety  of  the  General  gave  some  confidence,  'what  is 
the  figure  of  this  young  gallant,  in  case  I  should  find 
him?' 

*A  tall,  rawboned,  swarthy  lad,  they  say  he  has  shot 
up  into.  Here  is  his  picture  by  a  good  hand,  some  time 
since.'  He  turned  round  one  of  the  portraits  which 
stood  with  its  face  against  the  wall;  but  it  proved  not  to 
be  that  of  Charles  the  Second,  but  of  his  unhappy  father. 

The  first  motion  of  Cromwell  indicated  a  purpose  of 
hastily  replacing  the  picture,  and  it  seemed  as  if  an  effort 
was  necessary  to  repress  his  disinclination  to  look  upon 
it.  But  he  did  repress  it,  and,  placing  the  picture  against 
the  wall,  withdrew  slowly  and  sternly,  as  if,  in  defiance 
of  his  own  feehngs,  he  was  determined  to  gain  a  place 
from  which  to  see  it  to  advantage.  It  was  well  for  Wild- 
rake that  his  dangerous  companion  had  not  turned  an 
eye  on  him,  for  his  blood  also  kindled  when  he  saw  the 
portrait  of  his  master  in  the  hands  of  the  chief  author  of 
his  death.  Being  a  fierce  and  desperate  man,  he  com- 
manded his  passion  with  great  difl&culty;  and  if,  on  its 

142 


WOODSTOCK 

first  violence,  he  had  been  provided  with  a  suitable 
weapon,  it  is  possible  Cromwell  would  never  have  as- 
cended higher  in  his  bold  ascent  towards  supreme  power. 

But  this  natural  and  sudden  flash  of  indignation, 
which  rushed  through  the  veins  of  an  ordinary  man  like 
Wildrake,  was  presently  subdued  when  confronted  with 
the  strong  yet  stifled  emotion  displayed  by  so  powerful  a 
character  as  Cromwell.  As  the  Cavalier  looked  on  his 
dark  and  bold  countenance,  agitated  by  inward  and 
indescribable  feelings,  he  found  his  own  violence  of  spirit 
die  away  and  lose  itself  in  fear  and  wonder.  So  true  it 
is  that,  as  greater  Hghts  swallow  up  and  extinguish  the 
display  of  those  which  are  less,  so  men  of  great,  capa- 
cious, and  overruHng  minds  bear  aside  and  subdue,  in 
their  cHmax  of  passion,  the  more  feeble  wills  and  pas- 
sions of  others;  as,  when  a  river  joins  a  brook,  the  fiercer 
torrent  shoulders  aside  the  smaller  stream. 

Wildrake  stood  a  silent,  inactive,  and  almost  a  terri- 
fied spectator,  while  Cromwell,  assuming  a  firm  stern- 
ness of  eye  and  manner,  as  one  who  compels  himself  to 
look  on  what  some  strong  internal  f eehng  renders  painful 
and  disgustful  to  him,  proceeded,  in  brief  and  inter- 
rupted expressions,  but  yet  with  a  firm  voice,  to  com- 
ment on  the  portrait  of  the  late  king.  His  words  seemed 
less  addressed  to  Wildrake  than  to  be  the  spontaneous 
unburdening  of  his  own  bosom,  swelling  under  recollec- 
tion of  the  past  and  anticipation  of  the  future. 

'That  Flemish  painter,'  he  said  —  '  that  Antonio  Van- 
dyke, what  a  power  he  has!  Steel  may  mutilate,  war- 
riors may  waste  and  destroy,  still  the  King  stands  unin- 
jured by  time;  and  our  grandchildren,  while  they  read 
his  history,  may  look  on  liis  image,  and  compare  the 

143 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

melancholy  features  with  the  woful  tale.  It  was  a  stern 
necessity  —  it  was  an  awful  deed !  The  cabn  pride  of 
that  eye  might  have  ruled  worlds  of  crouching  French- 
men, or  supple  Italians,  or  formal  Spaniards;  but  its 
glances  only  roused  the  native  courage  of  the  stern 
Englishman.  Lay  not  on  poor  sinful  man,  whose  breath 
is  in  his  nostrils,  the  blame  that  he  falls,  when  Heaven 
never  gave  him  strength  of  nerves  to  stand.  The  weak 
rider  is  thrown  by  his  unruly  horse  and  trampled  to 
death;  the  strongest  man,  the  best  cavaHer,  springs  to 
the  empty  saddle,  and  uses  bit  and  spur  till  the  fiery 
steed  knows  its  master.  Who  blames  him  who,  mounted 
aloft,  rides  triumphantly  amongst  the  people,  for  having 
succeeded  where  the  unskilful  and  feeble  fell  and  died? 
Verily  he  hath  his  reward.  Then,  what  is  that  piece  of 
painted  canvas  to  me  more  than  others?  No;  let  him 
show  to  others  the  reproaches  of  that  cold,  cahn  face, 
that  proud  yet  complaining  eye.  Those  who  have  acted 
on  higher  respects  have  no  cause  to  start  at  painted 
shadows.  Not  wealth  nor  power  brought  me  from  my 
obscurity:  the  oppressed  consciences,  the  injured  hber- 
ties  of  England,  were  the  banner  that  I  followed.' 

He  raised  his  voice  so  high,  as  if  pleading  in  his  own 
defence  before  some  tribunal,  that  Pearson,  the  oflScer  in 
attendance,  looked  into  the  apartment;  and  observing 
his  master,  with  his  eyes  kindHng,  his  arm  extended,  his 
foot  advanced,  and  his  voice  raised,  like  a  general  in  the 
act  of  commanding  the  advance  of  his  army,  he  in- 
stantly withdrew. 

'  It  was  other  than  selfish  regards  that  drew  me  forth 
to  action,'  continued  Cromwell,  'and  I  dare  the  world  — 
ay,  Uving  or  dead  I  challenge  —  to  assert  that  I  armed 

144 


WOODSTOCK 

for  a  private  cause,  or  as  a  means  of  enlarging  my  for- 
tunes. Neither  was  there  a  trooper  in  the  regiment  who 
came  there  with  less  of  personal  evil  will  to  yonder 
unhappy — ' 

At  this  moment  the  door  of  the  apartment  opened, 
and  a  gentlewoman  entered,  who,  from  her  resemblance 
to  the  General,  although  her  features  were  soft  and  fem- 
inine, might  be  immediately  recognised  as  his  daughter. 
She  walked  up  to  Cromwell,  gently  but  firmly  passed  her 
arm  through  his,  and  said  to  him  in  a  persuasive  tone, 
'Father,  this  is  not  well:  you  have  promised  me  this 
should  not  happen.' 

The  General  hung  down  his  head,  like  one  who  was 
either  ashamed  of  the  passion  to  which  he  had  given  way 
or  of  the  influence  which  was  exercised  over  him.  He 
}delded,  however,  to  the  affectionate  impulse,  and  left 
the  apartment,  without  again  turning  his  head  towards 
the  portrait  which  had  so  much  affected  him,  or  looking 
towards  Wildrake,  who  remained  fixed  in  astonishment. 

»7 


CHAPTER  IX 

Doctor.  Go  to,  go  to.  You  have  known  what  you  should  not. 

Macbeth. 

WiLDRAKE  was  left  in  the  cabinet,  as  we  have  said,  as- 
tonished and  alone.  It  was  often  noised  about  that 
Cromwell,  the  deep  and  sagacious  statesman,  the  calm 
and  intrepid  commander,  he  who  had  overcome  such 
difficulties,  and  ascended  to  such  heights,  that  he 
seemed  already  to  bestride  the  land  which  he  had  con- 
quered, had,  like  many  other  men  of  great  genius,  a  con- 
stitutional taint  of  melancholy,  which  sometimes  dis- 
played itself  both  in  words  and  actions,  and  had  been 
first  observed  in  that  sudden  and  striking  change,  when, 
abandoning  entirely  the  dissolute  freaks  of  his  youth,  he 
embraced  a  very  strict  course  of  religious  observances, 
which  upon  some  occasions  he  seemed  to  consider  as 
bringing  him  into  more  near  and  close  contact  with  the 
spiritual  world.  This  extraordinary  man  is  said  some- 
times, during  that  period  of  his  life,  to  have  given  way  to 
spiritual  delusions,  or,  as  he  himself  conceived  them, 
prophetic  inspirations  of  approaching  grandeur,  and  of 
strange,  deep,  and  mysterious  agencies,  in  which  he  was 
in  future  to  be  engaged,  in  the  same  manner  as  his 
younger  years  had  been  marked  by  fits  of  exuberant  and 
excessive  frolic  and  debaucheries.  Something  of  this 
kind  seemed  to  explain  the  ebullition  of  passion  which  he 
had  now  manifested. 

With  wonder  at  what  he  had  witnessed,  Wildrake  felt 
146 


WOODSTOCK 

some  anxiety  on  his  own  account.  Though  not  the  most 
reflecting  of  mortals,  he  had  sense  enough  to  know  that 
it  is  dangerous  to  be  a  witness  of  the  infirmities  of  men 
high  in  power;  and  he  was  left  so  long  by  himself,  as 
induced  him  to  entertain  some  secret  doubts  whether 
the  General  might  not  be  tempted  to  take  means  of 
confining  or  removing  a  witness  who  had  seen  him 
lowered,  as  it  seemed,  by  the  suggestions  of  his  own  con- 
science, beneath  that  lofty  flight  which,  in  general,  he 
affected  to  sustain  above  the  rest  of  the  sublunary 
world. 

In  this,  however,  he  wronged  Cromwell,  who  was  free 
either  from  an  extreme  degree  of  jealous  suspicion  or 
from  any  thing  which  approached  towards  bloodthirsti- 
ness.  Pearson  appeared,  after  a  lapse  of  about  an  hour, 
and,  intimating  to  Wildrake  that  he  was  to  follow,  con- 
ducted him  into  a  distant  apartment,  in  which  he  found 
the  General  seated  on  a  low  couch.  His  daughter  was  in 
the  apartment,  but  remained  at  some  distance,  appar- 
ently busied  with  some  female  needlework,  and  scarce 
turned  her  head  as  Pearson  and  Wildrake  entered. 

At  a  sign  from  the  Lord  General,  Wildrake  ap- 
proached him  as  before.  'Comrade,'  he  said,  'your  old 
friends  the  Cavaliers  look  on  me  as  their  enemy,  and 
conduct  themselves  towards  me  as  if  they  desired  to 
make  me  such.  I  profess  they  are  labouring  to  their  own 
prejudice;  fori  regard,  and  have  ever  regarded,  them 
as  honest  and  honourable  fools,  who  were  silly  enough 
to  run  their  necks  into  nooses,  and  their  heads  against 
stone  walls,  that  a  man  called  Stuart,  and  no  other, 
should  be  king  over  them.  Fools!  are  there  no  words 
made  of  letters  that  would  sound  as  well  as  Charles 

147 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Stuart  with  that  magic  title  beside  them?  Why,  the 
word  king  is  like  a  lighted  lamp,  that  throws  the  same 
bright  gilding  upon  any  combination  of  the  alphabet, 
and  yet  you  must  shed  your  blood  for  a  name !  But  thou, 
for  my  part,  shalt  have  no  wrong  from  me.  Here  is  an 
order,  well  warranted,  to  clear  the  lodge  at  Woodstock, 
and  abandon  it  to  thy  master's  keeping,  or  those  whom 
he  shall  appoint.  He  will  have  his  uncle  and  pretty 
cousin  with  him,  doubtless.  Fare  thee  well;  think  on 
what  I  told  thee.  They  say  beauty  is  a  loadstone  to 
yonder  long  lad  thou  dost  wot  of;  but  I  reckon  he  has 
other  stars  at  present  to  direct  his  course  than  bright 
eyes  and  fair  hair.  Be  it  as  it  may,  thou  knowest  my 
purpose;  peer  out  —  peer  out:  keep  a  constant  and 
careful  lookout  on  every  ragged  patch  that  wanders  by 
hedgerow  or  lane :  these  are  days  when  a  beggar's  cloak 
may  cover  a  king's  ransom.  There  are  some  broad  Port- 
ugal pieces  for  thee  —  something  strange  to  thy  pouch, 
I  ween.  Once  more,  think  on  what  thou  hast  heard, 
and,'  he  added,  in  a  lower  and  more  impressive  tone  of 
voice,  'forget  what  thou  hast  seen.  My  service  to  thy 
master;  and,  yet  once  again,  remember  —  smd forget.' 

Wildrake  made  his  obeisance,  and,  returning  to  his 
inn,  left  Windsor  with  all  possible  speed. 

It  was  afternoon  in  the  same  day  when  the  Cavalier 
rejoined  his  Roundhead  friend,  who  was  anxiously 
expecting  him  at  the  inn  in  Woodstock  appointed  for 
their  rendezvous. 

'  Where  hast  thou  been?  —  what  hast  thou  seen?  — 
what  strange  uncertainty  is  in  thy  looks?  —  and  why 
dost  thou  not  answer  me? ' 

'Because,'  said  Wildrake,  laying  aside  his  riding- 
148 


WOODSTOCK 

cloak  and  rapier,  'you  ask  so  many  questions  at  once.  A 
man  has  but  one  tongue  to  answer  with,  and  mine  is 
wellnigh  glued  to  the  roof  of  my  mouth.' 

'Will  drink  unloosen  it?'  said  the  colonel;  'though  I 
dare  say  thou  hast  tried  that  spell  at  every  alehouse  on 
the  road.  Call  for  what  thou  wouldst  have,  man,  only 
be  quick.' 

'Colonel  Everard,'  answered  Wildrake,  'I  have  not 
tasted  so  much  as  a  cup  of  cold  water  this  day.' 

'Then  thou  art  out  of  humour  for  that  reason,'  said 
the  colonel;  'salve  thy  sore  with  brandy,  if  thou  wilt,  but 
leave  being  so  fantastic  and  unUke  to  thyself  as  thou 
showest  in  this  silent  mood.' 

'Colonel  Everard,'  replied  the  Cavalier,  very  gravely, 
'I  am  an  altered  man.' 

'I  think  thou  dost  alter,'  said  Everard,  'every  day  in 
the  year,  and  every  hour  of  the  day.  Come,  good  now, 
tell  me,  hast  thou  seen  the  General,  and  got  his  warrant 
for  clearing  out  the  sequestrators  from  Woodstock?' 

'I  have  seen  the  Devil,'  said  Wildrake,  'and  have,  as 
thou  sayst,  got  a  warrant  from  him.' 

'Give  it  me  hastily,'  said  Everard,  catching  at  the 
packet. 

'Forgive  me,  Mark,'  said  Wildrake;  'if  thou  knewest 
the  purpose  with  which  this  deed  is  granted  —  if  thou 
knewest  —  what  it  is  not  my  purpose  to  tell  thee  — 
what  manner  of  hopes  are  founded  on  thy  accepting  it, 
I  have  that  opinion  of  thee,  Mark  Everard,  that  thou 
wouldst  as  soon  take  a  red-hot  horseshoe  from  the  anvil 
with  thy  bare  hand  as  receive  into  it  this  slip  of  paper.' 

'  Come  —  come,'  said  Everard, '  this  comes  of  some  of 
your  exalted  ideas  of  loyalty,  which,  excellent  within 

149 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

certain  bounds,  drive  us  mad  when  encouraged  up  to 
some  heights.  Do  not  think,  since  I  must  needs  speak 
plainly  with  thee,  that  I  see  without  sorrow  the  downfall 
of  our  ancient  monarchy,  and  the  substitution  of  an- 
other form  of  government  in  its  stead;  but  ought  my 
regret  for  the  past  to  prevent  my  acquiescing  and  aiding 
in  such  measures  as  are  likely  to  settle  the  future?  The 
royal  cause  is  ruined,  hadst  thou  and  every  Cavalier  in 
England  sworn  the  contrary  —  ruined,  not  to  rise  again, 
for  many  a  day  at  least.  The  Parliament,  so  often 
draughted  and  drained  of  those  who  were  courageous 
enough  to  maintain  their  own  freedom  of  opinion,  is  now 
reduced  to  a  handful  of  statesmen,  who  have  lost  the 
respect  of  the  people,  from  the  length  of  time  during 
which  they  have  held  the  supreme  management  of 
affairs.  They  cannot  stand  long  unless  they  were  to 
reduce  the  army;  and  the  army,  late  servants,  are  now 
masters,  and  will  refuse  to  be  reduced.  They  know  their 
strength,  and  that  they  may  be  an  army  subsisting  on 
pay  and  free  quarters  throughout  England  as  long  as 
they  will.  I  tell  thee,  Wildrake,  unless  we  look  to  the 
only  man  who  can  rule  and  manage  them,  we  may  expect 
military  law  throughout  the  land;  and  I,  for  mine  own 
part,  look  for  any  preservation  of  our  privileges  that 
may  be  vouchsafed  to  us  only  through  the  wisdom  and 
forbearance  of  Cromwell.  Now  you  have  my  secret. 
You  are  aware  that  I  am  not  doing  the  best  I  would,  but 
the  best  I  can.  I  wish  —  not  so  ardently  as  thou,  per- 
haps —  yet  I  do  wish  that  the  King  could  have  been 
restored  on  good  terms  of  composition,  safe  for  us  and 
for  him?clf.  And  now,  good  Wildrake,  rebel  as  thou 
thinkest  me,  make  me  no  worse  a  rebel  than  an  unwilling 

150 


WOODSTOCK 

one.  God  knows,  I  never  laid  aside  love  and  reverence 
to  the  King,  even  in  drawing  my  sword  against  his  ill 
advisers.' 

'Ah,  plague  on  you,'  said  Wildrake,  'that  is  the  very 
cant  of  it  —  that's  what  you  all  say.  All  of  you  fought 
against  the  King  in  pure  love  and  loyalty,  and  not 
otherwise.  However,  I  see  your  drift,  and  I  own  that  I 
like  it  better  than  I  expected.  The  army  is  your  bear 
now,  and  Old  Noll  is  your  bear-ward ;  and  you  are  like  a 
country  constable,  who  makes  interest  with  the  bear- 
ward  that  he  may  prevent  him  from  letting  bruin 
loose.  Well,  there  may  come  a  day  when  the  sun  will 
shine  on  our  side  of  the  fence,  and  thereon  shall  you,  and 
all  the  good  fair-weather  folks  who  love  the  stronger 
party,  come  and  make  common  cause  with  us.' 

Without  much  attending  to  what  his  friend  said, 
Colonel  Everard  carefully  studied  the  warrant  of  Crom- 
well. 'It  is  bolder  and  more  peremptory  than  I  ex- 
pected,' he  said.  'The  General  must  feel  himself  strong, 
when  he  opposes  his  own  authority  so  directly  to  that  of 
the  Council  of  State  and  the  Parliament.' 

'You  will  not  hesitate  to  act  upon  it?'  said  Wildrake. 

'That  I  certainly  will  not,'  answered  Everard;  'but  I 
must  wait  till  I  have  the  assistance  of  the  Mayor,  who,  I 
think,  will  gladly  see  these  fellows  ejected  from  the  lodge. 
I  must  not  go  altogether  upon  military  authority,  if 
possible.'  Then,  stepping  to  the  door  of  the  apartment, 
he  dispatched  a  servant  of  the  house  in  quest  of  the  chief 
magistrate,  desiring  he  should  be  made  acquainted  that 
Colonel  Everard  desired  to  see  him  with  as  Httle  loss  of 
time  as  possible. 

'You  are  sure  he  will  come,  like  a  dog  at  a  whistle,' 

151 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

said  Wildrake.  '  The  word  captain  or  colonel  makes  the 
fat  citizen  trot  in  these  days,  when  one  sword  is  worth 
fifty  corporation  charters.  But  there  are  dragoons  yon- 
der, as  well  as  the  grim-faced  knave  whom  I  frightened  the 
other  evening  when  I  showed  my  face  in  at  the  window. 
Think'st  thou  the  knaves  will  show  no  rough  play?' 

'The  General's  warrant  will  weigh  more  with  them 
than  a  dozen  acts  of  Parliament,'  said  Everard.  'But  it 
is  time  thou  eatest,  if  thou  hast  in  truth  ridden  from 
Windsor  hither  without  baiting.' 

'I  care  not  about  it,'  said  Wildrake:  'I  tell  thee,  your 
General  gave  me  a  breakfast  which,  I  think,  will  serve 
me  one  while,  if  I  am  ever  able  to  digest  it.  By  the  mass, 
it  lay  so  heavy  on  my  conscience,  that  I  carried  it  to 
church  to  see  if  I  could  digest  it  there  with  my  other  sins. 
But  not  a  whit.' 

'  To  church !  To  the  door  of  the  church,  thou  meanest,' 
said  Everard.  'I  know  thy  way:  thou  art  ever  wont  to 
pull  thy  hat  off  reverently  at  the  threshold,  but  for 
crossing  it,  that  day  seldom  comes.' 

'Well,'  repHed  Wildrake,  'and  if  I  do  pull  off  my  cas- 
tor and  kneel,  is  it  not  seemly  to  show  the  same  respects 
in  a  church  which  we  offer  in  a  palace?  It  is  a  dainty 
matter,  is  it  not,  to  see  your  Anabaptists,  and  Brown- 
ists,  and  the  rest  of  you,  gather  to  a  sermon  with  as 
little  ceremony  as  hogs  to  a  trough?  But  here  comes 
food,  and  now  for  a  grace,  if  I  can  remember  one.' 

Everard  was  too  much  interested  about  the  fate  of  his 
uncle  and  his  fair  cousin,  and  the  prospect  of  restoring 
them  to  their  quiet  home,  under  the  protection  of  that 
formidable  truncheon  which  was  already  regarded  as  the 
leading-staff  of  England,  to  remark,  that  certainly  a 

152 


WOODSTOCK 

great  alteration  had  taken  place  in  the  manners  and 
outward  behaviour  at  least  of  his  companion.  His  de- 
meanour frequently  evinced  a  sort  of  struggle  betwixt 
old  habits  of  indulgence  and  some  newly-formed  resolu- 
tions of  abstinence;  and  it  was  almost  ludicrous  to  see 
how  often  the  hand  of  the  neophyte  directed  itself 
naturally  to  a  large  black  leathern  jack,  which  contained 
two  double  flagons  of  strong  ale,  and  how  often,  diverted 
from  its  purpose  by  the  better  reflections  of  the  reformed 
toper,  it  seized,  instead,  upon  a  large  ewer  of  salubrious 
and  pure  water. 

It  was  not  difficult  to  see  that  the  task  of  sobriety  was 
not  yet  become  easy,  and  that,  if  it  had  the  recommend- 
ation of  the  intellectual  portion  of  the  party  who  had 
resolved  upon  it,  the  outward  man  >aelded  a  reluctant 
and  restive  compUance.  But  honest  Wildrake  had  been 
dreadfully  frightened  at  the  course  proposed  to  him  by 
Cromwell,  and,  with  a  feeling  not  pecuHar  to  the  Catho- 
lic religion,  had  formed  a  solemn  resolution  within  his 
own  mind  that,  if  he  came  off  safe  and  with  honour  from 
this  dangerous  interview,  he  would  show  his  sense  of 
Heaven's  favour  by  renouncing  some  of  the  sins  which 
most  easily  beset  him,  and  especially  that  of  intemper- 
ance, to  which,  like  many  of  his  wild  compeers,  he  was 
too  much  addicted. 

This  resolution,  or  vow,  was  partly  prudential  as  well 
as  religious;  for  it  occurred  to  him  as  very  possible  that 
some  matters  of  a  difficult  and  delicate  nature  might  be 
thrown  into  his  hands  at  the  present  emergency,  during 
the  conduct  of  which  it  would  be  fitting  for  him  to  act  by 
some  better  oracle  than  that  of  the  Bottle,  celebrated  by 
Rabelais.    In  full  compliance  with  this  prudent  deter- 

153 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

mination,  he  touched  neither  the  ale  nor  the  brandy 
which  were  placed  before  him,  and  declined  peremptor- 
ily the  sack  with  which  his  friend  would  have  garnished 
the  board.  Nevertheless,  just  as  the  boy  removed  the 
trenchers  and  napkins,  together  with  the  large  black- 
jack which  we  have  already  mentioned,  and  was  one  or 
two  steps  on  his  way  to  the  door,  the  sinewy  arm  of  the 
Cavalier,  which  seemed  to  elongate  itself  on  purpose,  as 
it  extended  far  beyond  the  folds  of  the  threadbare 
jacket,  arrested  the  progress  of  the  retiring  Ganymede, 
and,  seizing  on  the  black-jack,  conveyed  it  to  the  lips, 
which  were  gently  breathing  forth  the  aspiration, 
*D — n  —  I  mean,  Heaven  forgive  me!  we  are  poor 
creatures  of  clay  —  one  modest  sip  must  be  permitted 
to  our  frailty.' 

So  murmuring,  he  glued  the  huge  flagon  to  his  lips, 
and  as  the  head  was  slowly  and  gradually  inclined 
backwards  in  proportion  as  the  right  hand  elevated 
the  bottom  of  the  pitcher,  Everard  had  great  doubts 
whether  the  drinker  and  the  cup  were  likely  to  part  until 
the  whole  contents  of  the  latter  had  been  transferred  to 
the  person  of  the  former.  Roger  Wildrake  stinted,  how- 
ever, when,  by  a  moderate  computation,  he  had  swal- 
lowed at  one  draught  about  a  quart  and  a  half. 

He  then  replaced  it  on  the  salver,  fetched  a  long 
breath  to  refresh  his  lungs,  bade  the  boy  get  him  gone 
with  the  rest  of  the  liquors,  in  a  tone  which  inferred  some 
dread  of  his  constancy,  and  then,  turning  to  his  friend 
Everard,  he  expatiated  in  praise  of  moderation,  observ- 
ing, that  the  mouthful  which  he  had  just  taken  had  been 
of  more  service  to  him  than  if  he  had  remained  quaffing 
healths  at  table  for  four  hours  together. 

154 


WOODSTOCK 

His  friend  made  no  reply,  but  could  not  help  being 
privately  of  opinion  that  Wildrake's  temperance  had 
done  as  much  execution  on  the  tankard  in  his  single 
draught  as  some  more  moderate  topers  might  have 
effected  if  they  had  sat  sipping  for  an  evening.  But  the 
subject  was  changed  by  the  entrance  of  the  landlord, 
who  came  to  announce  to  his  honour  Colonel  Everard 
that  the  worshipful  Mayor  of  Woodstock,  with  the  Rev. 
Master  Holdenough,  were  come  to  wait  upon  him. 


CHAPTER  X 

Here  we  have  one  head 
Upon  two  bodies;  your  two-headed  bullock 
Is  but  an  ass  to  such  a  prodigy. 

These  two  have  but  one  meaning,  thought,  and  counsel; 
And,  when  the  single  noddle  has  spoke  out, 
The  four  legs  scrape  assent  to  it. 

Old  Play. 

In  the  goodly  forai  of  the  honest  Mayor  there  was  a 
bustling  mixture  of  importance  and  embarrassment,  like 
the  deportment  of  a  man  who  was  conscious  that  he  had 
an  important  part  to  act,  if  he  could  but  exactly  discover 
what  that  part  was.  But  both  were  mingled  with  much 
pleasure  at  seeing  Everard,  and  he  frequently  repeated 
his  welcomes  and  all-hails  before  he  could  be  brought  to 
attend  to  what  that  gentleman  said  in  reply. 

'Good,  worthy  colonel,  you  are  indeed  a  desirable 
sight  to  Woodstock  at  all  times,  being,  as  I  may  say, 
almost  our  townsman,  as  you  have  dwelt  so  much  and 
so  long  at  the  palace.  Truly,  the  matter  begins  almost 
to  pass  my  wit,  though  I  have  transacted  the  affairs  of 
this  borough  for  many  a  long  day;  and  you  are  come  to 
my  assistance  like  —  like  — ' 

*  Tanquam  Deus  ex  machina,  as  the  ethnic  poet  hath 
it,'  said  Master  Holdenough,  'although  I  do  not  often 
quote  from  such  books.  Indeed,  Master  Markham 
Everard  —  or  worthy  colonel,  as  I  ought  rather  to  say 
—  you  are  simply  the  most  welcome  man  who  has  come 
to  Woodstock  since  the  days  of  old  King  Harry. ' 

'I  had  some  business  with  you,  my  good  friend^'  said 

156 


WOODSTOCK 

the  colonel,  addressing  the  Mayor;  'I  shall  be  glad  if  it 
should  so  happen  at  the  same  time  that  I  may  find 
occasion  to  pleasure  you  or  your  worthy  pastor.' 

'No  question  you  can  do  so,  good  sir,'  interposed 
Master  Holdenough:  'you  have  the  heart,  sir,  and  you 
have  the  hand ;  and  we  are  much  in  want  of  good  counsel, 
and  that  from  a  man  of  action.  I  am  aware,  worthy 
colonel,  that  you  and  your  worthy  father  have  ever 
borne  yourselves  in  these  turmoils  like  men  of  a  truly 
Christian  and  moderate  spirit,  striving  to  pour  oil  into 
the  wounds  of  the  land,  which  some  would  rub  with 
vitriol  and  pepper;  and  we  know  you  are  faithful  child- 
ren of  that  church  which  we  have  reformed  from  its 
papistical  and  prelatical  tenets.' 

*My  good  and  reverend  friend,'  said  Everard,  *I 
respect  the  piety  and  learning  of  many  of  your  teachers; 
but  I  am  also  for  Hberty  of  conscience  to  all  men.  I 
neither  side  with  sectaries  nor  do  I  desire  to  see  them  the 
object  of  suppression  by  violence.' 

'  Sir  —  sir,'  said  the  Presbyterian,  hastily,  'all  this  hath 
a  fair  sound;  but  I  would  you  should  think  what  a  fine 
country  and  church  we  are  like  to  have  of  it,  amidst 
the  errors,  blasphemies,  and  schisms  which  are  daily 
introduced  into  the  church  and  kingdom  of  England,  so 
that  worthy  Master  Edwards,  in  his  "Gangraena,"  de- 
clareth  that  our  native  country  is  about  to  become  the 
very  sink  and  cesspool  of  all  schisms,  heresies,  blas- 
phemies, and  confusions,  as  the  army  of  Hannibal  was 
said  to  be  the  refuse  of  all  nations  —  colluvies  omnium 
gentium.  Believe  me,  worthy  colonel,  that  they  of  the 
Honourable  House  view  all  this  over-lightly,  and  with 
the  winking  connivance  of  old  Eli.   These  instructors, 

157 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

the  schismatics,  shoulder  the  orthodox  ministers  out  of 
their  pulpits,  thrust  themselves  into  families,  and  break 
up  the  peace  thereof,  stealing  away  men's  hearts  from 
the  estabUshed  faith.' 

'My  good  Master  Holdenough,'  replied  the  colonel, 
interrupting  the  zealous  preacher,  'there  is  ground  of 
sorrow  for  all  these  unhappy  discords;  and  I  hold  with 
you,  that  the  fiery  spirits  of  the  present  time  have 
raised  men's  minds  at  once  above  sober-minded  and 
sincere  religion  and  above  decorum  and  common  sense. 
But  there  is  no  help  save  patience.  Enthusiasm  is  a 
stream  that  may  foam  off  in  its  own  time,  whereas  it 
is  sure  to  bear  down  every  barrier  which  is  directly 
opposed  to  it.  But  what  are  these  schismatical  pro- 
ceedings to  our  present  purpose?' 

'Why,  partly  this,  sir,'  said  Holdenough,  'although 
perhaps  you  may  make  less  of  it  than  I  should  have 
thought  before  we  met.  I  was  myself  —  I,  Nehemiah 
Holdenough,'  he  added,  consequentially,  'was  forcibly 
expelled  from  my  own  pulpit,  even  as  a  man  should  have 
been  thrust  out  of  his  own  house,  by  an  alien  and  an 
intruder,  a  wolf,  who  was  not  at  the  trouble  even  to  put 
on  sheep's  clothing,  but  came  in  his  native  wolfish  attire 
of  buff  and  bandalier,  and  held  forth  in  my  stead  to  the 
people,  who  are  to  me  as  a  flock  to  the  lawful  shepherd. 
It  is  too  true,  sir.  Master  Mayor  saw  it,  and  strove  to 
take  such  order  to  prevent  it  as  man  might,  though,' 
turning  to  the  Mayor,  'I  think  still  you  might  have 
striven  a  Httle  more.' 

'Good  now,  good  Master  Holdenough,  do  not  let  us 
go  back  on  that  question,'  said  the  Mayor.  'Guy  of 
Warwick  or  Bevis  of  Hampton  might  do  something  with 

158 


WOODSTOCK 

this  generation;  but  truly,  they  are  too  many  and  too 
strong  for  the  Mayor  of  Woodstock.' 

'I  think  Master  Mayor  speaks  very  good  sense/  said 
the  colonel.  *If  the  Independents  are  not  allowed  to 
preach,  I  fear  me  they  will  not  fight;  and  then  if  you 
were  to  have  another  rising  of  Cavaliers? ' 

'There  are  worse  folks  may  rise  than  Cavaliers/  said 
Holdenough. 

'How,  sir!'  replied  Everard.  'Let  me  remind  you, 
Master  Holdenough,  that  is  no  safe  language  in  the 
present  state  of  the  nation.' 

'I  say,'  said  the  Presbyterian,  'there  are  worse  folk 
may  rise  than  CavaHers;  and  I  will  prove  what  I  say. 
The  Devil  is  worse  than  the  worst  Cavaher  that  ever 
drank  a  health  or  swore  an  oath  —  and  the  Devil  has 
arisen  at  Woodstock  Lodge ! ' 

'Ay,  truly  hath  he,'  said  the  Mayor,  'bodily  and  visi- 
bly, in  figure  and  form.  An  awful  time  we  Uve  in!' 

'Gentlemen,  I  really  know  not  how  I  am  to  under- 
stand you,'  said  Everard. 

'Why,  it  was  even  about  the  Devil  we  came  to  speak 
with  you,'  said  the  Mayor;  'but  the  worthy  minister  is 
always  so  hot  upon  the  sectaries  — ' 

'Which  are  the  Devil's  brats,  and  nearly  akin  to  him,' 
said  Master  Holdenough.  'But  true  it  is,  that  the 
growth  of  these  sects  has  brought  up  the  Evil  One  even 
upon  the  face  of  the  earth,  to  look  after  his  own  interest, 
where  he  finds  it  most  thriving.' 

'Master  Holdenough,'  said  the  colonel,  'if  you  speak 
figuratively,  I  have  already  told  you  that  I  have  neither 
the  means  nor  the  skill  sufiicient  to  temper  these  reli- 
gious heats.  But  if  you  design  to  say  that  there  has  been 

159 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

an  actual  apparition  of  the  Devil,  I  presume  to  think 
that  you,  with  your  doctrine  and  your  learning,  would 
be  a  fitter  match  for  him  than  a  soldier  like  me.' 

'True,  sir;  and  I  have  that  confidence  in  the  commis- 
sion which  I  hold,  that  I  would  take  the  field  against  the 
FoulFiend  without  a  moment's  delay,' said  Holdenough; 
'  but  the  place  in  which  he  hath  of  late  appeared,  being 
Woodstock,  is  filled  with  those  dangerous  and  impious 
persons  of  whom  I  have  been  but  now  complaining;  and 
though,  confident  in  my  own  resources,  I  dare  venture  in 
disputation  with  their  Great  Master  himself,  yet  with- 
out your  protection,  most  worthy  colonel,  I  see  not  that 
I  may  with  prudence  trust  myself  with  the  tossing  and 
goring  ox  Desborough,  or  the  bloody  and  devouring  bear 
Harrison,  or  the  cold  and  poisonous  snake  Bletson  —  all 
of  whom  are  now  at  the  lodge,  doing  license  and  taking 
spoil  as  they  think  meet;  and,  as  all  men  say,  the  Devil 
has  come  to  make  a  fourth  with  them.' 

*In  good  truth,  worthy  and  noble  sir,'  said  the  Mayor, 
*it  is  even  as  Master  Holdenough  says:  our  privileges 
are  declared  void,  our  cattle  seized  in  the  very  pastures. 
They  talk  of  cutting  down  and  disparking  the  fair  chase, 
which  has  been  so  long  the  pleasure  of  so  many  kings, 
and  making  Woodstock  of  as  little  note  as  any  paltry 
village.  I  assure  you  we  heard  of  your  arrival  with  joy, 
and  wondered  at  your  keeping  yourself  so  close  in  your 
lodgings.  We  know  no  one  save  your  father  or  you  that 
are  like  to  stand  the  poor  burgesses'  friend  in  this  ex- 
tremity, since  almost  all  the  gentry  around  are  Malig- 
nants,  and  under  sequestration.  We  trust,  therefore, 
you  will  make  strong  intercession  in  our  behalf.' 

'Certainly,  Master  Mayor,'  said  the  colonel,  who  saw 
i6o 


WOODSTOCK 

himself  with  pleasure  anticipated;  'it  was  my  very  pur- 
pose to  have  interfered  in  this  matter,  and  I  did  but 
keep  myself  alone  until  I  should  be  furnished  with  some 
authority  from  the  Lord  General.' 

'Powers  from  the  Lord  General!'  said  the  Mayor, 
thrusting  the  clergyman  with  his  elbow.  'Dost  thou 
hear  that?  What  cock  will  fight  that  cock?  We  shall 
carry  it  now  over  their  necks,  and  Woodstock  shall  be 
brave  Woodstock  still.' 

'Keep  thine  elbow  from  my  side,  friend,'  said  Hold- 
enough,  annoyed  by  the  action  which  the  Mayor  had 
suited  to  his  words;  'and  may  the  Lord  send  that  Crom- 
well prove  not  as  sharp  to  the  people  of  England  as  thy 
bones  against  my  person !  Yet  I  approve  that  we  should 
use  his  authority  to  stop  the  course  of  these  men's  pro- 
ceedings.' 

'Let  us  set  out,  then,'  said  Colonel  Everard;  'and  I 
trust  we  shall  find  the  gentlemen  reasonable  and  obed- 
ient.' 

The  functionaries,  laic  and  clerical,  assented  with 
much  joy;  and  the  colonel  required  and  received  Wild- 
rake's  assistance  in  putting  on  his  cloak  and  rapier,  as 
if  he  had  been  the  dependant  whose  part  he  acted.  The 
Cavalier  contrived,  however,  while  doing  him  these 
menial  offices,  to  give  his  friend  a  shrewd  pinch,  in  order 
to  maintain  the  footing  of  secret  equality  betwixt  them. 

The  colonel  was  saluted,  as  they  passed  through  the 
streets,  by  many  of  the  anxious  inhabitants,  who  seemed 
to  consider  his  intervention  as  affording  the  only  chance 
of  saving  their  fine  park,  and  the  rights  of  the  corpora- 
tion, as  well  as  of  individuals,  from  ruin  and  confis- 
cation. 

S7  i6i 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

As  they  entered  the  park,  the  colonel  asked  his  com- 
panions, 'What  is  this  you  say  of  apparitions  being  seen 
amongst  them?' 

'Why,  colonel,'  said  the  clergyman,  'you  know  your- 
self that  Woodstock  was  always  haunted? ' 

'I  have  lived  therein  many  a  day,'  said  the  colonel, 
'and  I  know  that  I  never  saw  the  least  sign  of  it,  al- 
though idle  people  spoke  of  the  house  as  they  do  of  all 
old  mansions,  and  gave  the  apartments  ghosts  and 
spectres  to  fill  up  the  places  of  as  many  of  the  deceased 
great  as  had  ever  dwelt  there.' 

'Nay,  but,  good  colonel,'  said  the  clergyman,  'I  trust 
you  have  not  reached  the  prevailing  sin  of  the  times,  and 
become  indifferent  to  the  testimony  in  favour  of  appari- 
tions, which  appears  so  conclusive  to  all  but  atheists  and 
advocates  for  witches? ' 

'I  would  not  absolutely  disbelieve  what  is  so  gener- 
ally affirmed,'  said  the  colonel;  'but  my  reason  leads  me 
to  doubt  most  of  the  stories  which  I  have  heard  of  this 
sort,  and  my  own  experience  never  went  to  confirm  any 
of  them.' 

'Ay,  but  trust  me,'  said  Holdenough,  'there  was  al- 
ways a  demon  of  one  or  the  other  species  about  this 
Woodstock.  Not  a  man  or  woman  in  the  town  but  has 
heard  stories  of  apparitions  in  the  forest  or  about  the  old 
castle.  Sometimes  it  is  a  pack  of  hounds  that  sweep 
along,  and  the  whoops  and  holloos  of  the  huntsmen,  and 
the  winding  of  horns  and  the  galloping  of  horse,  which  is 
heard  as  if  first  more  distant,  and  then  close  around  you; 
and  then  anon  it  is  a  solitary  huntsman,  who  asks  if  you 
can  tell  him  which  way  the  stag  is  gone.  He  is  always 
dressed  in  green;  but  the  fashion  of  his  clothes  is  some 

162 


WOODSTOCK 

five  hundred  years  old.  This  is  what  we  call  Demon 
Meridianum  —  the  noonday  spectre.' 

'My  worthy  and  reverend  sir/  said  the  colonel,  'I 
have  lived  at  Woodstock  many  seasons,  and  have  trav- 
ersed the  chase  at  all  hours.  Trust  me,  what  you  hear 
from  the  villagers  is  the  growth  of  their  idle  folly  and 
superstition.' 

'Colonel,'  replied  Holdenough,  'a,  negative  proves 
nothing.  What  signifies,  craving  your  pardon,  that  you 
have  not  seen  anything,  be  it  earthly  or  be  it  of  the 
other  world,  to  detract  from  the  evidence  of  a  score  of 
people  who  have?  And,  besides,  there  is  the  Demon 
Noctumum  —  the  being  that  walketh  by  night.  He  has 
been  among  these  Independents  and  schismatics  last 
night.  Ay,  colonel,  you  may  stare,  but  it  is  even  so;  they 
may  try  whether  he  will  mend  their  gifts,  as  they  pro- 
fanely call  them,  of  exposition  and  prayer.  No,  sir,  I 
trow,  to  master  the  foul  fiend  there  goeth  some  com- 
petent knowledge  of  theology,  and  an  acquaintance  of 
the  humane  letters,  ay,  and  a  regular  clerical  education 
and  clerical  calling.' 

*I  do  not  in  the  least  doubt,'  said  the  colonel,  'the 
efficacy  of  your  qualifications  to  lay  the  Devil ;  but  still  I 
think  some  odd  mistake  has  occasioned  this  confusion 
amongst  them,  if  there  has  any  such  in  reality  existed. 
Desborough  is  a  blockhead,  to  be  sure;  and  Harrison  is 
fanatic  enough  to  beheve  anything.  But  there  is  Blet- 
son,  on  the  other  hand,  who  beheves  nothing.  What  do 
you  know  of  this  matter,  good  Master  Mayor? ' 

'In  sooth,  and  it  was  Master  Bletson  who  gave  the 
first  alarm,'  rephed  the  magistrate,  'or,  at  least,  the  first 
distinct  one.  You  see,  sir,  I  was  in  bed  with  my  wife^  and 

163 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

no  one  else;  and  I  was  as  fast  asleep  as  a  man  can  desire 
to  be  at  two  hours  after  midnight,  when,  behold  you, 
they  came  knocking  at  my  bedroom  door,  to  tell  me 
there  was  an  alarm  in  Woodstock,  and  that  the  bell  of 
the  lodge  was  ringing  at  that  dead  hour  of  the  night  as 
hard  as  ever  it  rung  when  it  called  the  court  to  dinner.' 

'Well,  but  the  cause  of  this  alarm?'  said  the  colonel. 

'You  shall  hear,  worthy  colonel  —  you  shall  hear,' 
answered  the  Mayor,  waving  his  hand  with  dignity;  for 
he  was  one  of  those  persons  who  will  not  be  hurried  out 
of  their  own  pace.  'So  Mrs.  Mayor  would  have  per- 
suaded me,  in  her  love  and  affection,  poor  wretch,  that 
to  rise  at  such  an  hour  out  of  my  own  warm  bed  was  Hke 
to  bring  on  my  old  complaint  the  lumbago,  and  that  I 
should  send  the  people  to  Alderman  Button.  "Alder- 
man Devil,  Mrs.  Mayor,"  said  I  —  I  beg  your  rever- 
ence's pardon  for  using  such  a  phrase  —  "Do  you  think 
I  am  going  to  lie  abed  when  the  town  is  on  fire,  and  the 
Cavaliers  up,  and  the  devil  to  pay?"  I  beg  pardon 
again,  parson.  But  here  we  are  before  the  gate  of  the 
palace;  will  it  not  please  you  to  enter? ' 

'I  would  first  hear  the  end  of  your  story,'  said  the 
colonel; '  that  is.  Master  Mayor,  if  it  happens  to  have  an 
end.' 

'Everything  hath  an  end,'  said  the  Mayor,  'and  that 
which  we  call  a  pudding  hath  two.  Your  worship  will 
forgive  me  for  being  facetious.  Where  was  I?  O,  I 
jumped  out  of  bed,  and  put  on  my  red  plush  breeches, 
with  the  blue  nether  stocks,  for  I  always  make  a  point  of 
being  dressed  suitably  to  my  dignity,  night  and  day, 
summer  or  winter,  Colonel  Everard;  and  I  took  the 
constable  along  with  me,  in  case  the  alarm  should  be 

164 


WOODSTOCK 

raised  by  night-walkers  or  thieves,  and  called  up  worthy 
Master  Holdenough  out  of  his  bed,  in  case  it  should  turn 
out  to  be  the  Devil.  And  so  I  thought  I  was  provided  for 
the  worst,  and  so  away  we  came;  and,  by  and  by,  the 
soldiers  who  came  to  the  town  with  Master  Tomkins, 
who  had  been  called  to  arms,  came  marching  down  to 
Woodstock  as  fast  as  their  feet  would  carry  them ;  so  I 
gave  our  people  the  sign  to  let  them  pass  us,  and  out- 
march us,  as  it  were,  and  this  for  a  twofold  reason.' 

*I  will  be  satisfied,'  interrupted  the  colonel,  'with  one 
good  reason.  You  desired  the  redcoats  should  have  the 
first  of  the  fray? ' 

'  True,  sir  —  very  true ;  and  also  that  they  should  have 
the  last  of  it,  in  respect  that  fighting  is  their  especial 
business.  However,  we  came  on  at  a  slow  pace,  as  men 
who  are  determined  to  do  their  duty  without  fear  or 
favour,  when  suddenly  we  saw  something  white  haste 
away  up  the  avenue  towards  the  town,  when  six  of  our 
constables  and  assistants  fled  at  once,  as  conceiving  it  to 
be  an  apparition  called  the  White  Woman  of  Woodstock.' 

'Look  you  there,  colonel,'  said  Master  Holdenough,  'I 
told  you  there  were  demons  of  more  kinds  than  one, 
which  haunt  the  ancient  scenes  of  royal  debauchery  and 
cruelty.' 

*  I  hope  you  stood  your  own  ground,  Master  Mayor? ' 
said  the  colonel. 

*  I  —  yes  —  most  assuredly  —  that  is,  I  did  not, 
strictly  speaking,  keep  my  ground;  but  the  town-clerk 
and  I  retreated  —  retreated,  colonel,  and  without  con- 
fusion or  dishonour,  and  took  post  behind  worthy  Mas- 
ter Holdenough,  who,  with  the  spirit  of  a  lion,  threw 
himself  in  the  way  of  the  supposed  spectre,  and  attacked 

i6s 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

it  with  such  a  siserary  of  Latin  as  might  have  scared  the 
Devil  himself,  and  thereby  plainly  discovered  that  it 
was  no  devil  at  all,  nor  white  woman,  neither  woman  of 
any  colour,  but  worshipful  Master  Bletson,  a  member 
of  the  House  of  Commons,  and  one  of  the  commissioners 
sent  hither  upon  this  unhappy  sequestration  of  the 
Wood,  Chase,  and  Lodge  of  Woodstock.' 

'And  this  was  all  you  saw  of  the  demon?'  said  the 
colonel. 

'Truly,  yes,'  answered  the  Mayor;  'and  I  had  no  wish 
to  see  more.  However,  we  conveyed  Master  Bletson,  as 
in  duty  bound,  back  to  the  lodge,  and  he  was  ever  maun- 
dering by  the  way  how  that  he  met  a  party  of  scarlet 
devils  incarnate  marching  down  to  the  lodge;  but,  to 
my  poor  thinking,  it  must  have  been  the  Independent 
dragoons  who  had  just  passed  us.' 

'And  more  incarnate  devils  I  would  never  wish  to  see,' 
said  Wildrake,  who  could  remain  silent  no  longer.  His 
voice,  so  suddenly  heard,  showed  how  much  the  Mayor's 
nerves  were  still  alarmed,  for  he  started  and  jumped 
aside  with  an  alacrity  of  which  no  one  would  at  first 
sight  suppose  a  man  of  his  portly  dignity  to  have  been 
capable.  Everard  imposed  silence  on  his  intrusive  at- 
tendant; and,  desirous  to  hear  the  conclusion  of  this 
strange  story,  requested  the  Mayor  to  tell  him  how  the 
matter  ended,  and  whether  they  stopped  the  supposed 
spectre. 

'Truly,  worthy  sir,'  said  the  Mayor,  'Master  Hold- 
enough  was  quite  venturous  upon  confronting,  as  it 
were,  the  Devil,  and  compelling  him  to  appear  under 
the  real  form  of  Master  Joshua  Bletson,  member  of 
Parliament  for  the  borough  of  Littlefaith.' 

1 66 


WOODSTOCK 

'In  sooth,  Master  Mayor,'  said  the  divine,  *I  were 
strangely  ignorant  of  my  own  commission  and  its  im- 
munities, if  I  were  to  value  opposing  myself  to  Satan,  or 
any  Independent  in  his  likeness,  all  of  whom,  in  the 
name  of  Him  I  serve,  I  do  defy,  spit  at,  and  trample 
under  my  feet;  and  because  Master  Mayor  is  something 
tedious,  I  will  briefly  inform  your  honour  that  we  saw 
Kttle  of  the  Enemy  that  night,  save  what  Master  Blet- 
son  said  in  the  first  feeling  of  his  terrors,  and  save  what 
we  might  collect  from  the  disordered  appearance  of  the 
Honourable  Colonel  Desborough  and  Major-General 
Harrison.' 

'And  what  plight  were  they  in,  I  pray  you?'  de- 
manded the  colonel. 

'Why,  worthy  sir,  every  one  might  see  with  half  an 
eye  that  they  had  been  engaged  in  a  fight  wherein  they 
had  not  been  honoured  with  perfect  victory;  seeing  that 
General  Harrison  was  stalking  up  and  down  the  parlour, 
with  his  drawn  sword  in  his  hand,  talking  to  himself,  his 
doublet  unbuttoned,  his  points  untrussed,  his  garters 
loose,  and  like  to  throw  him  down  as  he  now  and  then 
trode  on  them,  and  gaping  and  grinning  Hke  a  mad 
player.  And  yonder  sate  Desborough  with  a  dry  pottle 
of  sack  before  him,  which  he  had  just  emptied,  and 
which,  though  the  element  in  which  he  trusted,  had  not 
restored  him  sense  enough  to  speak  or  courage  enough  to 
look  over  his  shoulder.  He  had  a  Bible  in  his  hand,  for- 
sooth, as  if  it  would  of  itself  make  battle  against  the  Evil 
One;  but  I  peered  over  his  shoulder,  and,  alas!  the  good 
gentleman  held  the  bottom  of  the  page  uppermost.  It 
was  as  if  one  of  your  musketeers,  noble  and  valiant  sir, 
were  to  present  the  butt  of  his  piece  at  the  enemy  in- 

167 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

stead  of  the  muzzle  —  ha,  ha,  ha!  it  was  a  sight  to  judge 
of  schismatics  by,  both  in  point  of  head  and  in  point  of 
heart,  in  point  of  skill  and  in  point  of  courage.  Oh! 
colonel,  then  was  the  time  to  see  the  true  character  of 
an  authorised  pastor  of  souls  over  those  unhappy  men 
who  leap  into  the  fold  without  due  and  legal  authority, 
and  will,  forsooth,  preach,  teach,  and  exhort,  and  blas- 
phemously term  the  doctrine  of  the  church  saltless 
porridge  and  dry  chips ! ' 

*  I  have  no  doubt  you  were  ready  to  meet  the  danger, 
reverend  sir;  but  I  would  fain  know  of  what  nature  it 
was,  and  from  whence  it  was  to  be  apprehended?' 

'Was  it  for  me  to  make  such  inquiry? '  said  the  clergy- 
man, triumphantly.  '  Is  it  for  a  brave  soldier  to  number 
his  enemies,  or  inquire  from  what  quarter  they  are  to 
come?  No,  sir,  I  was  there  with  match  lighted,  bullet  in 
my  mouth,  and  my  harquebuss  shouldered,  to  encounter 
as  many  devils  as  hell  could  pour  in,  were  they  countless 
as  motes  in  the  sunbeam,  and  although  they  came  from 
all  points  of  the  compass.  The  Papists  talk  of  the  temp- 
tation of  St.  Anthony  —  pshaw!  Let  them  double  all 
the  myriads  which  the  brain  of  a  crazy  Dutch  painter 
hath  invented,  and  you  will  find  a  poor  Presbyterian 
divine  —  I  will  answer  for  one  at  least  !  who,  not  in 
his  own  strength,  but  his  Master's,  will  receive  the  as- 
sault in  such  sort  that,  far  from  returning  against  him  as 
against  yonder  poor  hound,  day  after  day  and  night 
after  night,  he  will  at  once  pack  them  off  as  with  a 
vengeance  to  the  uttermost  parts  of  Assyria!' 

'Still,'  said  the  colonel,  'I  pray  to  know  whether  you 
saw  anything  upon  which  to  exercise  your  pious  learn- 
ing?' 

1 68 


WOODSTOCK 

'Saw!'  answered  the  divine;  'no,  truly,  I  saw  nothing, 
nor  did  I  look  for  anything.  Thieves  will  not  attack 
well-armed  travellers,  nor  will  devils  or  evil  spirits  come 
against  one  who  bears  in  his  bosom  the  Word  of  truth, 
in  the  very  language  in  which  it  was  first  dictated.  No, 
sir,  they  shun  a  divine  who  can  understand  the  holy  text, 
as  a  crow  is  said  to  keep  wide  of  a  gun  loaded  with  hail- 
shot.' 

They  had  walked  a  little  way  back  upon  their  road,  to 
give  time  for  this  conversation;  and  the  colonel,  per- 
ceiving it  was  about  to  lead  to  no  satisfactory  explana- 
tion of  the  real  cause  of  alarm  on  the  preceding  night, 
turned  round,  and  observing,  it  was  time  they  should  go 
to  the  lodge,  began  to  move  in  that  direction  with  his 
three  companions. 

It  had  now  become  dark,  and  the  towers  of  Woodstock 
arose  high  above  the  umbrageous  shroud  which  the 
forest  spread  around  the  ancient  and  venerable  mansion. 
From  one  of  the  highest  turrets,  which  could  still  be 
distinguished  as  it  rose  against  the  clear  blue  sky,  there 
gleamed  a  hght  Uke  that  of  a  candle  within  the  building. 
The  Mayor  stopt  short,  and  catching  fast  hold  of  the 
divine,  and  then  of  Colonel  Everard,  exclaimed,  in  a 
trembling  and  hasty,  but  suppressed  tone  — 

'Do  you  see  yonder  light?' 

'Ay,  marry  do  I,'  said  Colonel  Everard;  'and  what 
does  that  matter?  A  light  in  a  garret-room  of  such  an 
old  mansion  as  Woodstock  is  no  subject  for  wonder,  I 
trow.' 

'But  a  hght  from  Rosamond's  Tower  is  surely  so?' 
said  the  Mayor. 

'True/  said  the  colonel,  something  surprised  when, 
169 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

after  a  careful  examination,  he  satisfied  himself  that  the 
worthy  magistrate's  conjecture  was  right.  'That  is  in- 
deed Rosamond's  Tower;  and  as  the  drawbridge  by 
which  it  was  accessible  has  been  destroyed  for  centuries, 
it  is  hard  to  say  what  chance  could  have  lighted  a  lamp 
in  such  an  inaccessible  place.' 

'That  light  burns  with  no  earthly  fuel,'  said  the 
Mayor:  'neither  from  whale  nor  olive  oil,  nor  bees- wax, 
nor  mutton-suet  either.  I  dealt  in  these  commodities, 
colonel,  before  I  went  into  my  present  line;  and  I  can 
assure  you  I  could  distinguish  the  sort  of  light  they 
give,  one  from  another,  at  a  greater  distance  than  yon- 
der turret.  Look  you,  that  is  no  earthly  flame.  See  you 
not  something  blue  and  reddish  upon  the  edges?  that 
bodes  full  well  where  it  comes  from.  Colonel,  in  my 
opinion  we  had  better  go  back  to  sup  at  the  town,  and 
leave  the  Devil  and  the  redcoats  to  settle  their  matters 
together  for  to-night;  and  then  when  we  come  back  the 
next  morning,  we  will  have  a  pull  with  the  party  that 
chances  to  keep  afield.' 

'You  will  do  as  you  please.  Master  Mayor,'  said 
Everard, '  but  my  duty  requires  me  that  I  should  see  the 
Commissioners  to-night.' 

'And  mine  requires  me  to  see  the  Foul  Fiend,'  said 
Master  Holdenough,  'if  he  dare  make  himself  visible  to 
me.  I  wonder  not  that,  knowing  who  is  approaching,  he 
betakes  himself  to  the  very  citadel,  the  inner  and  the 
last  defences,  of  this  ancient  and  haunted  mansion.  He 
is  dainty,  I  warrant  you,  and  must  dwell  where  is  a  relish 
of  luxury  and  murder  about  the  walls  of  his  chamber. 
In  yonder  turret  sinned  Rosamond,  and'in  yonder  turret 
she  suffered;  and  there  she  sits,  or,  more  Hkely,  the 

170 


WOODSTOCK 

Enemy  in  her  shape,  as  I  have  heard  true  men  of  Wood- 
stock tell.  I  wait  on  you,  good  colonel;  Master  Mayor 
will  do  as  he  pleases.  The  strong  man  hath  fortified 
himself  in  his  dwelling-house,  but,  lo,  there  cometh 
another  stronger  than  he.' 

'For  me,'  said  the  Mayor,  'who  am  as  unlearned  as  I 
am  unwarlike,  I  will  not  engage  either  with  the  powers 
of  the  Earth  or  the  Prince  of  the  Powers  of  the  Air,  and  I 
would  we  were  again  at  Woodstock;  and  harkye,  good 
fellow,'  slapping  Wildrake  on  the  shoulder,  'I  will  be- 
stow on  thee  a  shilling  wet  and  a  shilling  dry  if  thou  wilt 
go  back  with  me.' 

'Gadzookers,  Master  Mayor,'  said  Wildrake,  neither 
flattered  by  the  magistrate's  familiarity  of  address  nor 
captivated  by  his  munificence,  'I  wonder  who  the  devil 
made  you  and  me  fellows?  And,  besides,  do  you  think  I 
would  go  back  to  Woodstock  with  your  worshipful  cod's- 
head,  when,  by  good  management,  I  may  get  a  peep  of 
Fair  Rosamond,  and  see  whether  she  was  that  choice  and 
incomparable  piece  of  ware  which  the  world  has  been 
told  of  by  rh>Tners  and  ballad-makers? ' 

'Speak  less  lightly  and  wantonly,  friend,'  said  the 
divine ; '  we  are  to  resist  the  Devil  that  he  may  flee  from 
us,  and  not  to  tamper  with  him,  or  enter  into  his  coun- 
sels, or  traflSc  with  the  merchandise  of  his  great  Vanity 
Fair.' 

'Mind  what  the  good  man  says,  Wildrake,'  said  the 
colonel;  'and  take  heed  another  time  how  thou  dost 
suffer  thy  wit  to  outrun  discretion.' 

'I  am  beholden  to  the  reverend  gentleman  for  his 
advice,'  answered  Wildrake,  upon  whose  tongue  it  was 
difficult  to  impose  any  curb  whatever,  even  when  his 

171 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

own  safety  rendered  it  most  desirable.  '  But,  gadzook- 
ers,  let  him  have  had  what  experience  he  will  in  fighting 
with  the  Devil,  he  never  saw  one  so  black  as  I  had  a 
tussle  with  —  not  a  hundred  years  ago.' 

'How,  friend,'  said  the  clergyman,  who  understood 
everything  literally  when  apparitions  were  mentioned, 
'have  you  had  so  late  a  visitation  of  Satan?  Believe  me, 
then,  that  I  wonder  why  thou  darest  to  entertain  his 
name  so  often  and  so  lightly  as  I  see  thou  dost  use  it  in 
thy  ordinary  discourse.  But  when  and  where  didst  thou 
see  the  Evil  One? ' 

Everard  hastily  interposed,  lest  by  something  yet 
more  strongly  alluding  to  Cromwell  his  imprudent  squire 
should,  in  mere  wantonness,  betray  his  interview  with 
the  General.  'The  young  man  raves,'  he  said,  'of  a 
dream  which  he  had  the  other  night,  when  he  and  I 
slept  together  in  Victor  Lee's  chamber,  belonging  to  the 
ranger's  apartments  at  the  lodge.' 

'Thanks  for  help  at  a  pinch,  good  patron,'  said  Wild- 
rake,  whispering  into  Everard's  ear,  who  in  vain  en- 
deavoured to  shake  him  off, '  a  fib  never  failed  a  fanatic' 

'You,  also,  spoke  something  too  hghtly  of  these  mat- 
ters, considering  the  work  which  we  have  in  hand, 
worthy  colonel,'  said  the  Presbyterian  divine.  'Believe 
me,  the  young  man,  thy  servant,  was  more  Hkely  to  see 
visions  than  to  dream  merely  idle  dreams  in  that  apart- 
ment; for  I  have  always  heard  that,  next  to  Rosamond's 
Tower,  in  which,  as  I  said,  she  played  the  wanton,  and 
was  afterwards  poisoned  by  Queen  Eleanor,  Victor  Lee's 
chamber  was  the  place  in  the  lodge  of  Woodstock  more 
peculiarly  the  haunt  of  evil  spirits.  I  pray  you,  young 
man,  tell  me  this  dream  or  vision  of  yours.' 

172 


WOODSTOCK 

'With  all  my  heart,  sir,'  said  Wildrake;  then  address- 
ing his  patron,  who  began  to  interfere,  he  said,  'Tush, 
sir,  you  have  had  the  discourse  for  an  hour,  and  why 
should  not  I  hold  forth  in  my  turn?  By  this  darkness,  if 
you  keep  me  silent  any  longer,  I  will  turn  Independent 
preacher,  and  stand  up  in  your  despite  for  the  freedom  of 
private  judgment.  And  so,  reverend  sir,  I  was  dreaming 
of  a  carnal  divertisement  called  a  bull-baiting;  and 
methought  they  were  venturing  dogs  at  head,  as  mer- 
rily as  e'er  I  saw  them  atTutbury  bull-running;  and  me- 
thought I  heard  some  one  say,  there  was  the  Devil  come 
to  have  a  sight  of  the  bull-ring.  Well,  I  thought  that, 
gadswoons,  I  would  have  a  peep  at  his  Infernal  ^lajesty. 
So  I  looked,  and  there  was  a  butcher  in  greasy  woollen, 
with  his  steel  by  his  side;  but  he  was  none  of  the  Devil. 
And  there  was  a  drunken  Cavalier,  with  his  mouth  full 
of  oaths,  and  his  stomach  full  of  emptiness,  and  a  gold- 
laced  waistcoat  in  a  very  dilapidated  condition,  and  a 
ragged  hat,  with  a  piece  of  a  feather  in  it;  and  he  was 
none  of  the  Devil  neither.  And  here  was  a  miller,  his 
hands  dusty  with  meal,  and  every  atom  of  it  stolen;  and 
there  was  a  vintner,  his  green  apron  stained  with  wine, 
and  every  drop  of  it  sophisticated;  but  neither  was  the 
old  gentleman  I  looked  for  to  be  detected  among  these 
artisans  of  iniquity.  At  length,  sir,  I  saw  a  grave  person 
with  cropped  hair,  a  pair  of  longish  and  projecting  ears, 
a  band  as  broad  as  a  slobbering  bib  under  his  chin,  a 
brown  coat  surmounted  by  a  Geneva  cloak,  and  I  had 
Old  Nicholas  at  once  in  his  genuine  paraphernalia, 
by—!' 

'Shame  —  shame!'  said  Colonel  Everard.  'What! 
behave  thus  to  an  old  gentleman  and  a  divine!' 

173 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

'Nay,  let  him  proceed/  said  the  minister,  with  perfect 
equanimity;  'if  thy  friend,  or  secretary,  is  gibing,  I  must 
have  less  patience  than  becomes  my  profession  if  I  could 
not  bear  an  idle  jest,  and  forgive  him  who  makes  it.  Or 
if,  on  the  other  hand,  the  Enemy  has  really  presented 
himself  to  the  young  man  in  such  a  guise  as  he  intimates, 
wherefore  should  we  be  surprised  that  he  who  can  take 
upon  him  the  form  of  an  angel  of  light  should  be  able  to 
assume  that  of  a  frail  and  peccable  mortal,  whose  spir- 
itual calling  and  profession  ought,  indeed,  to  induce  him 
to  make  his  life  an  example  to  others,  but  whose  con- 
duct, nevertheless,  such  is  the  imperfection  of  our  unas- 
sisted nature,  sometimes  rather  presents  us  with  a 
warning  of  what  we  should  shun? ' 

'Now,  by  the  mass,  honest  dominie  —  I  mean,  rev- 
erend sir — I  crave  you  a  thousand  pardons,'  said  Wild- 
rake,  penetrated  by  the  quietness  and  patience  of  the 
Presbyter's  rebuke.  'By  St.  George,  if  quiet  patience 
will  do  it,  thou  art  fit  to  play  a  game  at  foils  with  the 
Devil  himself,  and  I  would  be  contented  to  hold  stakes.' 

As  he  concluded  an  apology  which  was  certainly  not 
uncalled  for,  and  seemed  to  be  received  in  perfectly  good 
part,  they  approached  so  close  to  the  exterior  door  of  the 
lodge  that  they  were  challenged  with  the  emphatic 
*  Stand,'  by  a  sentinel  who  mounted  guard  there.  Col- 
onel Everard  replied,  '  A  friend ' ;  and  the  sentinel  re- 
peating his  command,  'Stand,  friend,'  proceeded  to  call 
the  corporal  of  the  guard.  The  corporal  came  forth,  and 
at  the  same  time  turned  out  his  guard.  Colonel  Everard 
gave  his  name  and  designation,  as  well  as  those  of  his 
companions,  on  which  the  corporal  said,  'He  doubted 
not  there  would  be  orders  for  his  instant  admission;  but, 

174 


WOODSTOCK 

in  the  first  place,  Master  Tomkins  must  be  consulted, 
that  he  might  learn  their  honour's  mind.' 

'How,  sir!'  said  the  colonel,  'do  you,  knowing  who  I 
am,  presume  to  keep  me  on  the  outside  of  your  post?' 

'Not  if  your  honour  pleases  to  enter,'  said  the  cor- 
poral, 'and  undertakes  to  be  my  warranty;  but  such  are 
the  orders  of  my  post.' 

*Nay,  then,  do  your  duty,'  said  the  colonel;  'but  are 
the  Cavaliers  up,  or  what  is  the  matter,  that  you  keep  so 
close  and  strict  a  watch?' 

The  fellow  gave  no  distinct  answer,  but  muttered 
between  his  mustaches  something  about  the  enemy,  and 
the  roaring  lion  who  goeth  about  seeking  whom  he  may 
devour.  Presently  afterwards,  Tomkins  appeared,  fol- 
lowed by  two  servants,  bearing  Hghts  in  great  standing 
brass  candlesticks.  They  marched  before  Colonel  Ever- 
ard  and  his  party,  keeping  as  close  to  each  other  as  two 
cloves  of  the  same  orange;  and  starting  from  time  to 
time,  and  shouldering  as  they  passed  through  sundry 
intricate  passages,  they  led  up  a  large  and  ample  wooden 
staircase,  the  banisters,  rail,  and  Uning  of  which  were 
executed  in  black  oak,  and  finally  into  a  long  saloon,  or 
parlour,  where  there  was  a  prodigious  fire,  and  about 
twelve  candles  of  the  largest  size  distributed  in  sconces 
against  the  wall.  There  were  seated  the  Commissioners, 
who  now  held  in  their  power  the  ancient  mansion  and 
royal  domain  of  Woodstock. 


CHAPTER  XI 

The  bloody  bear,  an  independent  beast, 
Unlick'd  to  forms,  in  groans  his  hate  express'd. 

Next  him  the  buffoon  ape,  as  atheists  use, 
Mimick'd  all  sects,  and  had  his  own  to  choose. 

Hind  and  Panther. 

The  strong  light  in  the  parlour  which  we  have  described 
served  to  enable  Everard  easily  to  recognise  his  ac- 
quaintances, Desborough,  Harrison,  and  Bletson,  who 
had  assembled  round  an  oak  table  of  large  dimensions, 
placed  near  the  blazing  chimney,  on  which  were  ar- 
ranged wine,  and  ale,  and  materials  for  smoking,  then 
the  general  indulgence  of  the  time.  There  was  a  species 
of  movable  cupboard  set  betwixt  the  table  and  the  door, 
calculated  originally  for  a  display  of  plate  upon  grand 
occasions,  but  at  present  only  used  as  a  screen;  which 
purpose  it  served  so  effectually  that,  ere  he  had  coasted 
around  it,  Everard  heard  the  following  fragment  of  what 
Desborough  was  saying,  in  his  strong  coarse  voice: 
*  Sent  him  to  share  with  us,  I  'se  warrant  ye.  It  was 
always  his  Excellency  my  brother-in-law's  way:  if  he 
made  a  treat  for  five  friends,  he  would  invite  more  than 
the  table  could  hold.  I  have  known  him  ask  three  men 
to  eat  two  eggs.' 

'Hush  —  hush,'  said  Bletson;  and  the  servants,  mak- 
ing their  appearance  from  behind  the  tall  cupboard,  an- 
nounced Colonel  Everard.  It  may  not  be  uninteresting 
to  the  reader  to  have  a  description  of  the  party  into 
which  he  now  entered. 

176 


WOODSTOCK 

Desborough  was  a  stout,  bull-necked  man,  of  middle 
size,  with  heavy,  vulgar  features,  grizzled,  bushy  eye- 
brows, and  wall-eyes.  The  flourish  of  his  powerful 
relative's  fortunes  had  burst  forth  in  the  finery  of  his 
dress,  which  was  much  more  ornamented  than  was  usual 
among  the  Roundheads.  There  was  embroidery  on  his 
cloak,  and  lace  upon  his  band;  his  hat  displayed  a 
feather  with  a  golden  clasp ;  and  all  his  habiliments  were 
those  of  a  Cavalier,  or  follower  of  the  court,  rather  than 
the  plain  dress  of  a  Parliamentarian  ofiicer.  But, 
Heaven  knows,  there  was  little  of  courtlike  grace  or 
dignity  in  the  person  or  demeanour  of  the  individual, 
who  became  his  fine  suit  as  the  hog  on  the  sign-post  does 
his  gilded  armour.  It  was  not  that  he  was  positively 
deformed,  or  misshaped,  for,  taken  in  detail,  the  figure 
was  well  enough.  But  his  limbs  seemed  to  act  upon 
different  and  contradictory  principles.  They  were  not, 
as  the  play  says,  in  a  concatenation  accordingly:  the 
right  hand  moved  as  if  it  were  upon  bad  terms  with  the 
left,  and  the  legs  showed  an  inclination  to  foot  it  in 
different  and  opposite  directions.  In  short,  to  use  an 
extravagant  comparison,  the  members  of  Colonel 
Desborough  seemed  rather  to  resemble  the  disputatious 
representatives  of  a  federative  congress  than  the  well- 
ordered  union  of  the  orders  of  the  state  in  a  firm  and 
well-compacted  monarchy,  where  each  holds  his  own 
place  and  all  obey  the  dictates  of  a  common  head. 

General  Harrison,  the  second  of  the  Commissioners, 
was  a  tall,  thin,  middle-aged  man,  who  had  risen  into  his 
high  situation  in  the  army,  and  his  intimacy  with  Crom- 
well, by  his  dauntless  courage  in  the  field,  and  the  pop- 
ularity he  had  acquired  by  his  exalted  enthusiasm 
87  177 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

amongst  the  military  saints,  sectaries,  and  Independents 
who  composed  the  strength  of  the  existing  army.  Harri- 
son was  of  mean  extraction,  and  bred  up  to  his  father's 
employment  of  a  butcher.  Nevertheless,  his  appearance, 
though  coarse,  was  not  vulgar,  like  that  of  Desborough, 
who  had  so  much  the  advantage  of  him  in  birth  and 
education.  He  had  a  masculine  height  and  strength  of 
figure,  was  well  made,  and  in  his  manner  announced  a 
rough  military  character,  which  might  be  feared,  but 
could  not  easily  become  the  object  of  contempt  or  ridi- 
cule. His  aquiline  nose  and  dark  black  eyes  set  off  to 
some  advantage  a  countenance  otherwise  irregular,  and 
the  wild  enthusiasm  that  sometimes  sparkled  in  them  as 
he  dilated  on  his  opinions  to  others,  and  often  seemed  to 
slumber  under  his  long  dark  eyelashes  as  he  mused  upon 
them  himself,  gave  something  strikingly  wild,  and  even 
noble,  to  his  aspect.  He  was  one  of  the  chief  leaders  of 
those  who  were  called  Fifth  Monarchy  men,  who,  going 
even  beyond  the  general  fanaticism  of  the  age,  presump- 
tuously interpreted  the  book  of  the  Revelation  after 
their  own  fancies,  considered  that  the  second  Advent  of 
the  Messiah,  and  the  millennium,  or  reign  of  the  saints 
upon  earth,  was  close  at  hand,  and  that  they  themselves, 
illuminated,  as  they  believed,  with  the  power  of  foresee- 
ing these  approaching  events,  were  the  chosen  instru- 
ments for  the  establishment  of  the  New  Reign,  or  Fifth 
Monarchy,  as  it  was  called,  and  were  fated  also  to  win  its 
honours,  whether  celestial  or  terrestrial. 

When  this  spirit  of  enthusiasm,  which  operated  like  a 
partial  insanity,  was  not  immediately  affecting  Harri- 
son's mind,  he  was  a  shrewd,  worldly  man  and  a  good 
soldier,  one  who  missed  no  opportunity  of  mending  his 

178 


WOODSTOCK 

fortune,  and  who,  in  expecting  the  exaltation  of  the 
Fifth  Monarchy,  was,  in  the  mean  while,  a  ready  instru- 
ment for  the  estabHshment  of  the  Lord  General's  su- 
premacy. Whether  it  was  owing  to  his  early  occupation, 
and  habits  of  indifference  to  pain  or  bloodshed  acquired 
in  the  shambles,  to  natural  disposition  and  want  of 
feeling,  or,  finally,  to  the  awakened  character  of  his 
enthusiasm,  which  made  him  look  upon  those  who 
opposed  him  as  opposing  the  Divine  will,  and  therefore 
meriting  no  favour  or  mercy,  is  not  easy  to  say;  but  all 
agreed  that,  after  a  victory  or  the  successful  storm  of  a 
town,  Harrison  was  one  of  the  most  cruel  and  pitiless 
men  in  Cromwell's  army,  always  urging  some  misappHed 
text  to  authorise  the  continued  execution  of  the  fugitives, 
and  sometimes  even  putting  to  death  those  who  had 
surrendered  themselves  prisoners.  It  was  said,  that  at 
times  the  recollection  of  some  of  those  cruelties  troubled 
his  conscience,  and  disturbed  the  dreams  of  beatification 
in  which  his  imagination  indulged. 

When  Everard  entered  the  apartment,  this  true  repre- 
sentative of  the  fanatical  soldiers  of  the  day,  who  filled 
those  ranks  and  regiments  which  Cromwell  had  politi- 
cally kept  on  foot,  while  he  procured  the  reduction  of 
those  in  which  the  Presbyterian  interest  predominated, 
was  seated  a  little  apart  from  the  others,  his  legs  crossed 
and  stretched  out  at  length  towards  the  fire,  his  head 
resting  on  his  elbow,  and  turned  upwards,  as  if  studying, 
with  the  most  profound  gravity,  the  half-seen  carving  of 
the  Gothic  roof. 

Bletson  remains  to  be  mentioned,  who,  in  person  and 
figure,  was  diametrically  different  from  the  other  two. 
There  was  neither  foppery  nor  slovenliness  in  his  ex- 

179 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

terior,  nor  had  he  any  marks  of  military  service  or  rank 
about  his  person.  A  small  walking  rapier  seemed  merely 
worn  as  a  badge  of  his  rank  as  a  gentleman,  without  his 
hand  having  the  least  purpose  of  becoming  acquainted 
with  the  hilt,  or  his  eye  with  the  blade.  His  countenance 
was  thin  and  acute,  marked  with  lines  which  thought 
rather  than  age  had  traced  upon  it;  and  a  habitual  sneer 
on  his  countenance,  even  when  he  least  wished  to  express 
contempt  on  his  features,  seemed  to  assure  the  individ- 
ual addressed  that  in  Bletson  he  conversed  with  a  person 
of  intellect  far  superior  to  his  own.  This  was  a  triumph 
of  intellect  only,  however;  for  on  all  occasions  of  differ- 
ence respecting  speculative  opinions,  and  indeed  on  all 
controversies  whatsoever,  Bletson  avoided  the  ultimate 
ratio  of  blows  and  knocks. 

Yet  this  peaceful  gentleman  had  found  himself 
obliged  to  serve  personally  in  the  Parliamentary  army 
at  the  commencement  of  the  Civil  War,  till,  happening 
unluckily  to  come  in  contact  with  the  fiery  Prince 
Rupert,  his  retreat  was  judged  so  precipitate,  that  it 
required  all  the  shelter  his  friends  could  afford  to  keep 
him  free  of  an  impeachment  or  a  court-martial.  But  as 
Bletson  spoke  well,  and  with  great  effect,  in  the  House 
of  Commons,  which  was  his  natural  sphere,  and  was  on 
that  account  high  in  the  estimation  of  his  party,  his 
behaviour  at  Edgehill  was  passed  over,  and  he  continued 
to  take  an  active  share  in  all  the  political  events  of  that 
bustling  period,  though  he  faced  not  again  the  actual 
front  of  war. 

Bletson's  theoretical  politics  had  long  inclined  him  to 
espouse  the  opinions  of  Harrington  and  others,  who 
adopted  the  visionary  idea  of  establishing  a  pure  demo- 

i8o 


WOODSTOCK 

cratical  republic  in  so  extensive  a  country  as  Britain. 
This  was  a  rash  theory,  where  there  is  such  an  infinite 
difference  betwixt  ranks,  habits,  education,  and  morals; 
where  there  is  such  an  immense  disproportion  betwixt 
the  wealth  of  individuals;  and  where  a  large  portion  of 
the  inhabitants  consists  of  the  inferior  classes  of  the 
large  towns  and  manufacturing  districts  —  men  unfitted 
to  bear  that  share  in  the  direction  of  a  state  which  must 
be  exercised  by  the  members  of  a  repubhc  in  the  proper 
sense  of  the  word.  Accordingly,  as  soon  as  the  experi- 
ment was  made,  it  became  obvious  that  no  such  form  of 
government  could  be  adopted  with  the  smallest  chance 
of  stability;  and  the  question  came  only  to  be,  whether 
the  remnant,  or,  as  it  was  vulgarly  called,  the  Rump,  of 
the  Long  ParHament,  now  reduced  by  the  seclusion  of  so 
many  of  the  members  to  a  few  scores  of  persons,  should 
continue,  in  spite  of  their  unpopularity,  to  rule  the  affairs 
of  Britain?  Whether  they  should  cast  all  loose  by  dis- 
solving themselves,  and  issuing  writs  to  convoke  a  new 
Parliament,  the  composition  of  which  no  one  could 
answer  for,  any  more  than  for  the  measures  they  might 
take  when  assembled?  Or,  lastly,  whether  Cromwell,  as 
actually  happened,  was  not  to  throw  the  sword  into  the 
balance,  and  boldly  possess  himself  of  that  power  which 
the  remnant  of  the  Parliament  were  unable  to  hold,  and 
yet  afraid  to  resign? 

Such  being  the  state  of  parties,  the  Council  of  State,  in 
distributing  the  good  things  in  their  gift,  endeavoured  to 
soothe  and  gratify  the  army,  as  a  beggar  flings  crusts  to 
a  growling  mastiff.  In  this  view  Desborough  had  been 
created  a  Commissioner  in  the  Woodstock  matter  to 
gratify  Cromwell,  Harrison  to  soothe  the  fierce  Fifth 

i8i 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Monarchy  men,  and  Bletson  as  a  sincere  republican,  and 
one  of  their  own  leaven. 

But  if  they  supposed  Bletson  had  the  least  intention  of 
becoming  a  martyr  to  his  republicanism,  or  submitting 
to  any  serious  loss  on  account  of  it,  they  much  mistook 
the  man.  He  entertained  their  principles  sincerely,  and 
not  the  less  that  they  were  found  impracticable;  for  the 
miscarriage  of  his  experiment  no  more  converts  the  poHt- 
ical  speculator  than  the  explosion  of  a  retort  undeceives 
an  alchymist.  But  Bletson  was  quite  prepared  to  submit 
to  Cromwell,  or  any  one  else  who  might  be  possessed  of 
the  actual  authority.  He  was  a  ready  subject  in  practice 
to  the  powers  existing,  and  made  little  difference  betwixt 
various  kinds  of  government,  holding  in  theory  all  to  be 
nearly  equal  in  imperfection,  so  soon  as  they  diverged 
from  the  model  of  Harrington's  Oceana.  Cromwell  had 
already  been  tampering  with  him,  like  wax  between  his 
finger  and  thumb,  and  which  he  was  ready  shortly  to 
seal  with,  smiling  at  the  same  time  to  himself  when  he 
beheld  the  Council  of  State  giving  rewards  to  Bletson  as 
their  faithful  adherent,  while  he  himself  was  secure  of 
his  allegiance,  how  soon  soever  the  expected  change  of 
government  should  take  place. 

But  Bletson  was  still  more  attached  to  his  metaphysi- 
cal than  his  political  creed,  and  carried  his  doctrines  of 
the  perfectibility  of  mankind  as  far  as  he  did  those 
respecting  the  conceivable  perfection  of  a  model  of 
government;  and  as  in  the  one  case  he  declared  against 
all  power  which  did  not  emanate  from  the  people  them- 
selves, so,  in  his  moral  speculations,  he  was  unwilling 
to  refer  any  of  the  phenomena  of  nature  to  a  final  cause. 
When  pushed,  indeed,  very  hard,  Bletson  was  compelled 

182 


WOODSTOCK 

to  mutter  some  inarticulate  and  unintelligible  doctrines 
concerning  an  Animus  Mundi,  or  Creative  Power,  in  the 
works  of  Nature,  by  which  she  originally  called  into  ex- 
istence, and  still  continues  to  preserve,  her  works.  To 
this  power,  he  said,  some  of  the  purest  metaphysicians 
rendered  a  certain  degree  of  homage;  nor  was  he  himself 
inclined  absolutely  to  censure  those  who,  by  the  institu- 
tion of  holidays,  choral  dances,  songs,  and  harmless 
feasts  and  libations,  might  be  disposed  to  celebrate  the 
great  goddess  Nature;  at  least,  dancing,  singing,  feast- 
ing, and  sporting  being  comfortable  things  to  both 
young  and  old,  they  might  as  well  sport,  dance,  and  feast 
in  honour  of  such  appointed  holidays  as  under  any  other 
pretext.  But  then  this  moderate  show  of  religion  was  to 
be  practised  under  such  exceptions  as  are  admitted  by 
the  Highgate  oath;  and  no  one  was  to  be  compelled  to 
dance,  drink,  sing,  or  feast  whose  taste  did  not  happen  to 
incline  them  to  such  divertisements,  nor  was  any  one  to 
be  obliged  to  worship  the  creative  power,  whether  under 
the  name  of  the  Animus  Mundi  or  any  other  whatsoever. 
The  interference  of  the  Deity  in  the  affairs  of  mankind 
he  entirely  disowned,  having  proved  to  his  own  satis- 
faction that  the  idea  originated  entirely  in  priestcraft. 
In  short,  with  the  shadowy  metaphysical  exception 
aforesaid,  Mr.  Joshua  Bletson  of  Darlington,  member 
for  Littlecreed,  came  as  near  the  predicament  of  an 
atheist  as  it  is  perhaps  possible  for  a  man  to  do.  But  we 
say  this  with  the  necessary  salvo;  for  we  have  known 
many  like  Bletson,  whose  curtains  have  been  shrewdly 
shaken  by  superstition,  though  their  fears  were  unsanc- 
tioned by  any  religious  faith.  The  devils,  we  are  assured, 
believe  and  tremble;  but  on  earth  there  are  many  who, 

183 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

in  worse  plight  than  even  the  natural  children  of  perdi- 
tion, tremble  without  believing,  and  fear  even  while  they 
blaspheme. 

It  follows,  of  course,  that  nothing  could  be  treated 
with  more  scorn  by  Mr.  Bletson  than  the  debates  about 
Prelacy  and  Presbytery,  about  Presbytery  and  Inde- 
pendency, about  Quakers  and  Anabaptists,  Muggle- 
tonians  and  Brownists,  and  all  the  various  sects  with 
which  the  Civil  War  had  commenced,  and  by  which  its 
dissensions  were  still  continued.  *It  was,'  he  said,  'as  if 
beasts  of  burden  should  quarrel  amongst  themselves 
about  the  fashion  of  their  halters  and  pack-saddles, 
instead  of  embracing  a  favourable  opportunity  of  throw- 
ing them  aside.'  Other  witty  and  pithy  remarks  he  used 
to  make  when  time  and  place  suited ;  for  instance,  at  the 
club  called  the  Rota,  frequented  by  St.  John,  and  estab- 
lished by  Harrington,  for  the  free  discussion  of  political 
and  religious  subjects. 

But  when  Bletson  was  out  of  this  academy  or  strong- 
hold of  philosophy,  he  was  very  cautious  how  he  carried 
his  contempt  of  the  general  prejudice  in  favour  of  relig- 
ion and  Christianity  further  than  an  implied  objection 
or  a  sneer.  If  he  had  an  opportunity  of  talking  in  private 
with  an  ingenuous  and  intelligent  youth,  he  sometimes 
attempted  to  make  a  proselyte,  and  showed  much  ad- 
dress in  bribing  the  vanity  of  inexperience,  by  suggesting 
that  a  mind  like  his  ought  to  spurn  the  prejudices  im- 
pressed upon  it  in  childhood;  and  when  assuming  the 
latus  clavus  of  reason,  assuring  him  that  such  as  he,  laying 
aside  the  bulla  of  juvenile  incapacity,  as  Bletson  called 
it,  should  proceed  to  examine  and  decide  for  himself.  It 
frequently  happened  that  the  youth  was  induced  to 


WOODSTOCK 

adopt  the  doctrines  in  whole  or  in  part  of  the  sage  who 
had  seen  his  natural  genius,  and  who  had  urged  him  to 
exert  it  in  examining,  detecting,  and  declaring  for  him- 
self; and  thus  flattery  gave  proselytes  to  infidelity  which 
could  not  have  been  gained  by  all  the  powerful  elo- 
quence or  artful  sophistry  of  the  infidel. 

These  attempts  to  extend  the  influence  of  what  was 
called  freethinking  and  philosophy  were  carried  on,  as 
we  have  hinted,  with  a  caution  dictated  by  the  timidity 
of  the  philosopher's  disposition.  He  was  conscious  his 
doctrines  were  suspected,  and  his  proceedings  watched, 
by  the  two  principal  sects  of  Prelatists  and  Presbyteri- 
ans, who,  however  inimical  to  each  other,  were  still  more 
hostile  to  one  who  was  an  opponent  not  only  to  a  church 
estabhshment  of  any  kind,  but  to  every  denomination  of 
Christianity.  He  found  it  more  easy  to  shroud  himself 
among  the  Independents,  whose  demands  were  for  a 
general  liberty  of  conscience,  or  an  unlimited  toleration, 
and  whose  faith,  differing  in  all  respects  and  particulars, 
was  by  some  pushed  into  such  wild  errors  as  to  get  to- 
tally beyond  the  bounds  of  every  species  of  Christianity, 
and  approach  very  near  to  infidelity  itself,  as  extremes 
of  each  kind  are  said  to  approach  each  other.  Bletson 
mixed  a  good  deal  among  those  sectaries;  and  such  was 
his  confidence  in  his  own  logic  and  address,  that  he  is 
supposed  to  have  entertained  hopes  of  bringing  to  his 
opinions  in  time  the  enthusiastic  Vane,  as  well  as  the  no 
less  enthusiastic  Harrison,  provided  he  could  but  get 
them  to  resign  their  visions  of  a  Fifth  Monarchy,  and 
induce  them  to  be  contented  with  a  reign  of  philosophers 
in  England  for  the  natural  period  of  their  lives,  instead 
of  the  reign  of  the  saints  during  the  millennium. 

185 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

.  Such  was  the  singular  group  into  which  Everard  was 
now  introduced,  showing,  in  their  various  opinions,  upon 
how  many  devious  coasts  human  nature  may  make  ship- 
wreck, when  she  has  once  let  go  her  hold  on  the  anchor 
which  religion  has  given  her  to  lean  upon;  the  acute  self- 
conceit  and  worldly  learning  of  Bletson,  the  rash  and 
ignorant  conclusions  of  the  fierce  and  under-bred  Harri- 
son, leading  them  into  the  opposite  extremes  of  enthu- 
siasm and  infidelity,  while  Desborough,  constitutionally 
stupid,  thought  nothing  about  religion  at  all;  and  while 
the  others  were  active  in  making  sail  on  different  but 
equally  erroneous  courses,  he  might  be  said  to  perish 
like  a  vessel  which  springs  a  leak  and  founders  in  the 
roadstead.  It  was  wonderful  to  behold  what  a  strange 
variety  of  mistakes  and  errors,  on  the  part  of  the  King 
and  his  ministers,  on  the  part  of  the  Parliament  and 
their  leaders,  on  the  part  of  the  allied  kingdoms  of  Scot- 
land and  England  towards  each  other,  had  combined  to 
rear  up  men  of  such  dangerous  opinions  and  interested 
characters  among  the  arbiters  of  the  destiny  of  Britain. 
Those  who  argue  for  party's  sake  will  see  all  the  faults 
on  the  one  side,  without  deigning  to  look  at  those  on  the 
other;  those  who  study  history  for  instruction  will  per- 
ceive that  nothing  but  the  want  of  concession  on  either 
side,  and  the  deadly  height  to  which  the  animosity  of  the 
King's  and  Parliament's  parties  had  arisen,  could  have 
so  totally  overthrown  the  well-poised  balance  of  the 
English  constitution.  But  we  hasten  to  quit  poHtical 
reflections,  the  rather  that  ours,  we  believe,  will  please 
neither  Whig  nor  Tory. 


CHAPTER  XII 


Three  form  a  College;  an  you  give  us  four, 
Let  him  bring  his  share  with  him. 

Beaumont  and  Fletcher. 


Mr.  Bletson  arose  and  paid  his  respects  to  Colonel 
Everard  with  the  ease  and  courtesy  of  a  gentleman  of 
the  time,  though  on  every  account  grieved  at  his  intru- 
sion, as  a  religious  man  who  held  his  freethinking  prin- 
ciples in  detestation,  and  would  effectually  prevent  his 
conversion  of  Harrison,  and  even  of  Desborough,  if  any- 
thing could  be  moulded  out  of  such  a  clod,  to  the  wor- 
ship of  the  Animus  Mundi.  Moreover,  Bletson  knew 
Everard  to  be  a  man  of  steady  probity,  and  by  no  means 
disposed  to  close  with  a  scheme  on  which  he  had  success- 
fully sounded  the  other  two,  and  which  was  calculated  to 
assure  the  Commissioners  of  some  Uttle  private  indem- 
nification for  the  trouble  they  were  to  give  themselves 
in  the  public  business.  The  philosopher  was  yet  less 
pleased  when  he  saw  the  magistrate  and  the  pastor  who 
had  met  him  in  his  flight  of  the  preceding  evening,  when 
he  had  been  seen,  partna  non  bene  relicta,  with  cloak  and 
doublet  left  behind  him. 

The  presence  of  Colonel  Everard  was  as  unpleasing  to 
Desborough  as  to  Bletson;  but  the  former,  having  no 
philosophy  in  him,  nor  an  idea  that  it  was  possible  for 
any  man  to  resist  helping  himself  out  of  untold  money, 
was  chiefly  embarrassed  by  the  thought  that  the  plunder 
which  they  might  be  able  to  achieve  out  of  their  trust 
might,  by  this  unwelcome  addition  to  their  number,  be 

1S7 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

divided  into  four  parts  instead  of  three;  and  this  reflec- 
tion added  to  the  natural  awkwardness  with  which  he 
grumbled  forth  a  sort  of  welcome,  addressed  to  Everard. 

As  for  Harrison,  he  remained  Hke  one  on  higher 
thoughts  intent,  his  posture  unmoved,  his  eyes  fixed  on 
the  ceiHng  as  before,  and  in  no  way  indicating  the  least 
consciousness  that  the  company  had  been  more  than 
doubled  around  him. 

Meantime,  Everard  took  his  place  at  the  table,  as  a 
man  who  assumed  his  own  right,  and  pointed  to  his  com- 
panions to  sit  down  nearer  the  foot  of  the  board.  Wild- 
rake  so  far  misunderstood  his  signals  as  to  sit  down 
above  the  Mayor;  but  rallying  his  recollection  at  a  look 
from  his  patron,  he  rose  and  took  his  place  lower,  whis- 
tling, however,  as  he  went  —  a  sound  at  which  the 
company  stared,  as  at  a  freedom  highly  unbecoming. 
To  complete  his  indecorum,  he  seized  upon  a  pipe,  and 
filling  it  from  a  large  tobacco-box,  was  soon  immersed 
in  a  cloud  of  his  own  raising,  from  which  a  hand  shortly 
after  emerged,  seized  on  the  black-jack  of  ale,  withdrew 
it  within  the  vapoury  sanctuary,  and,  after  a  potential 
draught,  replaced  it  upon  the  table,  its  owner  beginning 
to  renew  the  cloud  which  his  intermitted  exercise  of  the 
tube  had  almost  allowed  to  subside. 

Nobody  made  any  observation  on  his  conduct,  out  of 
respect,  probably,  to  Colonel  Everard,  who  bit  his  lip, 
but  continued  silent,  aware  that  censure  might  extract 
some  escapade  more  unequivocally  characteristic  of  a 
Cavalier  from  his  refractory  companion.  As  silence 
seemed  awkward,  and  the  others  made  no  advances  to 
break  it,  beyond  the  ordinary  salutation.  Colonel 
Everard  at  length  said,  *  I  presume,  gentlemen,  that  you 

i88 


WOODSTOCK 

are  somewhat  surprised  at  my  arrival  here,  and  thus 
intruding  myself  into  your  meeting?' 

'Why  the  dickens  should  we  be  surprised,  colonel?' 
said  Desborough:  'we  know  his  Excellency  my  brother- 
in-law  Noll's  —  I  mean  my  Lord  Cromwell's  —  way  of 
over-quartering  his  men  in  the  towns  he  marches 
through.  Thou  hast  obtained  a  share  in  our  commis- 
sion?' 

'And  in  that,'  said  Bletson,  smiling  and  bowing,  'the 
Lord  General  has  given  us  the  most  acceptable  colleague 
that  could  have  been  added  to  our  number.  No  doubt 
your  authority  for  joining  with  us  must  be  under  war- 
rant of  the  Council  of  State?' 

'Of  that,  gentlemen,'  said  the  colonel,  'I  will  presently 
advise  you.'  He  took  out  his  warrant  accordingly,  and 
was  about  to  communicate  the  contents ;  but  observing 
that  there  were  three  or  four  half-empty  flasks  upon  the 
table,  that  Desborough  looked  more  stupid  than  usual, 
and  that  the  philosopher's  eyes  were  reeling  in  his  head, 
notwithstanding  the  temperance  of  Bletson's  usual 
habits,  he  concluded  that  they  had  been  fortifying 
themselves  against  the  horrors  of  the  haunted  mansion, 
by  laying  in  a  store  of  what  is  called  Dutch  courage, 
and  therefore  prudently  resolved  to  postpone  his  more 
important  business  with  them  till  the  cooler  hour  of 
morning.  He,  therefore,  instead  of  presenting  the  Gen- 
eral's warrant  superseding  their  commission,  contented 
himself  with  replying,  'My  business  has,  of  course, 
some  reference  to  your  proceedings  here.  But  here  is 
—  excuse  my  curiosity  —  a  reverend  gentleman,'  point- 
ing to  Holdenough,  'who  has  told  me  that  you  are  so 
strangely  embarrassed  here  as  to  require  both  the  civil 

189 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

and  spiritual  authority  to  enable  you  to  keep  possession 
of  Woodstock.' 

'  Before  we  go  into  that  matter,'  said  Bletson,  blushing 
up  to  the  eyes  at  the  recollection  of  his  own  fears,  so 
manifestly  displayed,  yet  so  inconsistent  with  his  prin- 
ciples, 'I  should  like  to  know  who  this  other  stranger  is, 
who  has  come  with  the  worthy  magistrate  and  the  no 
less  worthy  Presbyterian? ' 

'Meaning  me?'  said  Wildrake,  laying  his  pipe  aside. 
'Gadzooks,  the  time  hath  been  that  I  could  have  an- 
swered the  question  with  a  better  title ;  but  at  present  I 
am  only  his  honour's  poor  clerk,  or  secretary,  whichever 
is  the  current  phrase.' 

*  'Fore  George,  my  lively  blade,  thou  art  a  frank  fel- 
low of  thy  tattle,'  said  Desborough.  'There  is  my  secre- 
tary Tomkins,  whom  men  sillily  enough  call  Fibbet,  and 
the  honourable  Lieutenant-General  Harrison's  secre- 
tary, Bibbet,  who  are  now  at  supper  belowstairs,  that 
durst  not  for  their  ears  speak  a  phrase  above  their  breath 
in  the  presence  of  their  betters,  unless  to  answer  a 
question.' 

*  Yes,  Colonel  Everard,'  said  the  philosopher,  with  his 
quiet  smile,  glad,  apparently,  to  divert  the  conversation 
from  the  topic  of  last  night's  alarm,  and  recollections 
which  humbled  his  self-love  and  self-satisfaction  —  'yes; 
and  when  Master  Fibbet  and  Master  Bibbet  do  speak, 
their  afi&rmations  are  as  much  in  a  common  mould  of 
mutual  attestation  as  their  names  would  accord  in  the 
verses  of  a  poet.  If  Master  Fibbet  happens  to  tell  a  fic- 
tion. Master  Bibbet  swears  it  as  truth.  If  Master  Bibbet 
chances  to  have  gotten  drunk  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord, 
Master  Fibbet  swears  he  is  sober.  I  have  called  my  own 

190 


WOODSTOCK 

secretary  Gibbet,  though  his  name  chances  to  be  only 
Gibeon,  a  worthy  Israelite  at  your  service,  but  as  pure  a 
youth  as  ever  picked  a  lamb-bone  at  Paschal.  But  I  call 
him  Gibbet,  merely  to  make  up  the  holy  trefoil  with  an- 
other rh^Tne.  This  squire  of  thine.  Colonel  Everard, 
looks  as  if  he  might  be  worthy  to  be  coupled  with  the 
rest  of  the  fraternity.' 

'Not  I,  truly,'  said  the  Cavalier;  'I'll  be  coupled  with 
no  Jew  that  was  ever  whelped,  and  no  Jewess  neither.' 

'  Scorn  not  for  that,  young  man,'  said  the  philosopher; 
'  the  Jews  are,  in  point  of  religion,  the  elder  brethren,  you 
know.' 

'The  Jews  older  than  the  Christians?'  said  Desbor- 
ough;  "fore  George,  they  will  have  thee  before  the 
General  Assembly,  Bletson,  if  thou  venturest  to  say  so.' 

Wildrake  laughed  without  ceremony  at  the  gross 
ignorance  of  Desborough,  and  was  joined  by  a  sniggling 
response  from  behind  the  cupboard,  which,  when  in- 
quired into,  proved  to  be  produced  by  the  serving-men. 
These  worthies,  timorous  as  their  betters,  when  they 
were  supposed  to  have  left  the  room,  had  only  with- 
drawn to  their  present  place  of  concealment. 

'How  now,  ye  rogues,'  said  Bletson,  angrily;  'do  you 
not  know  your  duty  better? ' 

'We  beg  your  worthy  honour's  pardon,'  said  one 
of  the  men,  '  but  we  dared  not  go  downstairs  without 
a  light.' 

'A  light,  ye  cowardly  poltroons ! '  said  the  philosopher; 
'what  —  to  show  which  of  you  looks  palest  when  a  rat 
squeaks  ?  But  take  a  candlestick  and  be  gone,  you  cow- 
ardly villains;  the  devils  you  are  so  much  afraid  of  must 
be  but  paltry  kites,  if  they  hawk  at  such  bats  as  you  are.' 

191 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

The  servants,  without  replying,  took  up  one  of  the 
candlesticks  and  prepared  to  retreat,  Trusty  Tomkins  at 
the  head  of  the  troop,  when  suddenly,  as  they  arrived  at 
the  door  of  the  parlour,  which  had  been  left  half  open, 
it  was  shut  violently.  The  three  terrified  domestics  tum- 
bled back  into  the  middle  of  the  room,  as  if  a  shot  had 
been  discharged  in  their  face,  and  all  who  were  at  the 
table  started  to  their  feet. 

Colonel  Everard  was  incapable  of  a  moment's  fear, 
even  if  any  thing  frightful  had  been  seen;  but  he  remained 
stationary,  to  see  what  his  companions  would  do,  and  to 
get  at  the  bottom,  if  possible,  of  the  cause  of  their  alarm 
upon  an  occasion  so  trifling.  The  philosopher  seemed  to 
think  that  he  was  the  person  chiefly  concerned  to  show 
manhood  on  the  occasion. 

He  walked  to  the  door  accordingly,  murmuring  at  the 
cowardice  of  the  servants;  but  at  such  a  snail's  pace  that 
it  seemed  he  would  most  willingly  have  been  anticipated 
by  any  one  whom  his  reproaches  had  roused  to  exertion. 
*  Cowardly  blockheads ! '  he  said  at  last,  seizing  hold  of 
the  handle  of  the  door,  but  without  turning  it  effectually 
round,  'dare  you  not  open  a  door?  (still  fumbling  with 
the  lock)  —  dare  you  not  go  down  a  staircase  without  a 
h'ght?  Here,  bring  me  the  candle,  you  cowardly  villains! 
By  Heaven,  something  sighs  on  the  outside!' 

As  he  spoke,  he  let  go  the  handle  of  the  parlour  door, 
and  stepped  back  a  pace  or  two  into  the  apartment,  with 
cheeks  as  pale  as  the  band  he  wore. 

Deus  adjutor  meus! '  said  the  Presbyterian  clergyman, 
rising  from  his  seat.  *  Give  place,  sir,'  addressing  Blet- 
son;  *it  would  seem  I  know  more  of  this  matter  than 
thou,  and  I  bless  Heaven  I  am  armed  for  the  conflict.' 

192 


WOODSTOCK 

Bold  as  a  grenadier  about  to  mount  a  breach,  yet  with 
the  same  belief  in  the  existence  of  a  great  danger  to  be 
encountered,  as  well  as  the  same  reliance  in  the  goodness 
of  his  cause,  the  worthy  man  stepped  before  the  philo- 
sophical Bletson,  and  taking  a  light  from  a  sconce  in 
one  hand,  quietly  opened  the  door  with  the  other,  and 
standing  in  the  threshold,  said,  'Here  is  nothing.' 

'And  who  expected  to  see  anything,'  said  Bletson, 

*  excepting  those  terrified  oafs,  who  take  fright  at  every 
puff  of  wind  that  whistles  through  the  passages  of  this 
old  dungeon? ' 

'Mark  you,  Master  Tomkins,'  said  one  of  the  waiting- 
men  in  a  whisper  to  the  steward,  'see  how  boldly  the 
minister  pressed  forward  before  all  of  them.  Ah!  Master 
Tomkins,  our  parson  is  the  real  commissioned  officer  of 
the  church ;  your  lay-preachers  are  no  better  than  a  par- 
cel of  club-men  and  volunteers.' 

'  Follow  me  those  who  list,'  said  Master  Holdenough, 

*  or  go  before  me  those  who  choose,  I  will  walk  through 
the  habitable  places  of  this  house  before  I  leave  it,  and 
satisfy  myself  whether  Satan  hath  really  mingled  him- 
self among  these  dreary  dens  of  ancient  wickedness,  or 
whether,  like  the  wicked  of  whom  holy  David  speaketh, 
we  are  afraid  and  flee  when  no  one  pursueth.' 

Harrison,  who  had  heard  these  words,  sprung  from  his 
seat,  and  drawing  his  sword,  exclaimed,  'Were  there  as 
many  fiends  in  the  house  as  there  are  hairs  on  my  head, 
upon  this  cause  I  will  charge  them  up  to  their  very 
trenches!' 

So  saying,  he  brandished  his  weapon,  and  pressed  to 
the  head  of  the  column,  where  he  moved  side  by  side 
with  the  minister.  The  Mayor  of  Woodstock  next  joined 

37  193 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

the  body,  thinking  himself  safer  perhaps  in  the  company 
of  his  pastor;  and  the  whole  train  moved  forward  in  close 
order,  accompanied  by  the  servants  bearing  lights,  to 
search  the  lodge  for  some  cause  of  that  panic  with  which 
they  seemed  to  be  suddenly  seized. 

'Nay,  take  me  with  you,  my  friends,'  said  Colonel 
Everard,  who  had  looked  on  in  surprise,  and  was  now 
about  to  follow  the  party,  when  Bletson  laid  hold  on  his 
cloak  and  begged  him  to  remain. 

'You  see,  my  good  colonel,'  he  said,  affecting  a  cour- 
age which  his  shaking  voice  belied,  'here  are  only  you 
and  I,  and  honest  Desborough,  left  behind  in  garrison, 
while  all  the  others  are  absent  on  a  sally.  We  must  not 
hazard  the  whole  troops  in  one  sortie,  that  were  unmili- 
tary.  Ha,  ha,  ha!' 

'In  the  name  of  Heaven,  what  means  all  this?'  said 
Everard.  'I  heard  a  foolish  tale  about  apparitions  as  I 
came  this  way,  and  now  I  find  you  all  half-mad  with 
fear,  and  cannot  get  a  word  of  sense  among  so  many  of 
you.  Fie,  Colonel  Desborough  —  fie,  Master  Bletson; 
try  to  compose  yourselves,  and  let  me  know,  in  Heaven's 
name,  the  cause  of  all  this  disturbance.  One  would  be 
apt  to  think  your  brains  were  turned.' 

'And  so  mine  well  may,'  said  Desborough,  'ay,  and 
overturned  too,  since  my  bed  last  night  was  turned  up- 
side down,  and  I  was  placed  for  ten  minutes  heels  upper- 
most and  head  downmost,  like  a  bullock  going  to  be 
shot.' 

'What  means  this  nonsense,  Master  Bletson?  Des- 
borough must  have  had  the  nightmare.' 

'No,  faith,  colonel;  the  goblins,  or  whatever  else  they 
were,  had  been  favourable  to  honest  Desborough,  for 

194 


WOODSTOCK 

they  reposed  the  whole  of  his  person  on  that  part  of  his 
body  which  —  hark,  did  you  not  hear  something?  —  is 
the  central  point  of  gravity,  namely,  his  head.' 

'Did  you  see  anything  to  alarm  you? '  said  the  colonel. 

'Nothing,'  said  Bletson;  'but  we  heard  hellish  noises, 
as  all  our  people  did,  and  I,  believing  little  of  ghosts  and 
apparitions,  concluded  the  Cavaliers  were  taking  us  at 
advantage,  so,  remembering  Rainsborough's  fate,  I  e'en 
jumped  the  window,  and  ran  to  Woodstock,  to  call  the 
soldiers  to  the  rescue  of  Harrison  and  Desborough.' 

*  And  did  you  not  first  go  to  see  what  the  danger  was? ' 

'Ah,  my  good  friend,  you  forget  that  I  laid  down  my 
commission  at  the  time  of  the  self-denying  ordinance.  It 
would  have  been  quite  inconsistent  with  my  duty  as  a 
Parliament  man  to  be  brawling  amidst  a  set  of  ruffians, 
without  any  military  authority.  No;  when  the  Parlia- 
ment commanded  me  to  sheathe  my  sword,  colonel, 
I  have  too  much  veneration  for  their  authority  to  be 
found  again  with  it  drawn  in  my  hand.' 

'But  the  Parliament,'  said  Desborough,  hastily,  'did 
not  command  you  to  use  your  heels  when  your  hands 
could  have  saved  a  man  from  choking.  Ods  dickens !  you 
might  have  stopped  when  you  saw  my  bed  canted  heels 
uppermost,  and  me  half-stifled  in  the  bedclothes  —  you 
might,  I  say,  have  stopped  and  lent  a  hand  to  put  it  to 
rights,  instead  of  jumping  out  of  the  window,  like  a  new- 
shorn  sheep,  so  soon  as  you  had  run  across  my  room,' 

'Nay,  worshipful  Master  Desborough,'  said  Bletson, 
winking  on  Everard,  to  show  that  he  was  playing  on  his 
thick-skulled  colleague, '  how  could  I  tell  your  particular 
mode  of  reposing?  There  are  many  tastes:  I  have  known 
men  who  slept  by  choice  on  a  slope  or  angle  of  forty-five.' 

195 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'Yes,  but  did  ever  a  man  sleep  standing  on  his  head. 
except  by  miracle? '  said  Desborough. 

'Now,  as  to  miracles,'  said  the  philosopher,  confident 
in  the  presence  of  Everard,  besides  that  an  opportunity 
of  scoffing  at  religion  really  in  some  degree  diverted  his 
fear,  'I  leave  these  out  of  the  question,  seeing  that  the 
evidence  on  such  subjects  seems  as  little  qualified  to 
carry  conviction  as  a  horsehair  to  land  a  leviathan.' 

A  loud  clap  of  thunder,  or  a  noise  as  formidable,  rang 
through  the  lodge  as  the  scoffer  had  ended,  which  struck 
him  pale  and  motionless,  and  made  Desborough  throw 
himself  on  his  knees  and  repeat  exclamations  and  pray- 
ers in  much  admired  confusion. 

'There  must  be  contrivance  here,'  exclaimed  Everard; 
and  snatching  one  of  the  candles  from  a  sconce,  he 
rushed  out  of  the  apartment,  little  heeding  the  entreaties 
of  the  philosopher,  who,  in  the  extremity  of  his  distress, 
conjured  him  by  the  Animus  Mundi  to  remain  to  the 
assistance  of  a  distressed  philosopher  endangered  by 
witches,  and  a  Parliament-man  assaulted  by  ruffians. 
As  for  Desborough,  he  only  gaped  like  a  clown  in  a  pan- 
tomime; and,  doubtful  whether  to  follow  or  stop,  his 
natural  indolence  prevailed,  and  he  sat  still. 

When  on  the  landing-place  of  the  stairs,  Everard 
paused  a  moment  to  consider  which  was  the  best  course 
to  take.  He  heard  the  voices  of  men  talking  fast  and 
loud,  like  people  who  wish  to  drown  their  fears,  in  the 
lower  story;  and  aware  that  nothing  could  be  discovered 
by  those  whose  inquiries  were  conducted  in  a  manner  so 
noisy,  he  resolved  to  proceed  in  a  different  direction,  and 
examine  the  second  floor,  which  he  had  now  gained. 

He  had  known  every  corner,  both  of  the  inhabited  and 
196 


WOODSTOCK 

uninhabited  part  of  the  mansion,  and  availed  himself  of 
the  candle  to  traverse  two  or  three  intricate  passages, 
which  he  was  afraid  he  might  not  remember  with  suffi- 
cient accuracy.  This  movement  conveyed  him  to  a  sort 
of  (eil-de-bceuf,  an  octagon  vestibule,  or  small  hall,  from 
which  various  rooms  opened.  Amongst  these  doors, 
Everard  selected  that  which  led  to  a  very  long,  narrow, 
and  dilapidated  gallery,  built  in  the  time  of  Henry  VIII., 
and  which,  running  along  the  whole  south-west  side  of 
the  building,  communicated  at  different  points  with  the 
rest  of  the  mansion.  This  he  thought  was  likely  to  be  the 
post  occupied  by  those  who  proposed  to  act  the  sprites 
upon  the  occasion;  especially  as  its  length  and  shape 
gave  him  some  idea  that  it  was  a  spot  where  the  bold 
thunder  might  in  many  ways  be  imitated. 

Determined  to  ascertain  the  truth  if  possible,  he 
placed  his  light  on  a  table  in  the  vestibule,  and  applied 
himself  to  open  the  door  into  the  gallery.  At  this  point 
he  found  himself  strongly  opposed,  either  by  a  bolt 
drawn,  or  as  he  rather  conceived,  by  somebody  from 
within  resisting  his  attempt.  He  was  induced  to  believe 
the  latter,  because  the  resistance  slackened  and  was  re- 
newed, like  that  of  human  strength,  instead  of  present- 
ing the  permanent  opposition  of  an  inanimate  obstacle. 
Though  Everard  was  a  strong  and  active  young  man, 
he  exhausted  his  strength  in  the  vain  attempt  to  open 
the  door;  and  having  paused  to  take  breath,  was  about 
to  renew  his  efforts  with  foot  and  shoulder,  and  to  call  at 
the  same  time  for  assistance,  when,  to  his  surprise,  on 
again  attempting  the  door  more  gently,  in  order  to  ascer- 
tain if  possible  where  the  strength  of  the  opposing  ob- 
stacle was  situated,  he  found  it  give  way  to  a  very  slight 

197 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

impulse,  some  impediment  fell  broken  to  the  ground, 
and  the  door  flew  wide  open.  The  gust  of  wind  occa- 
sioned by  the  sudden  opening  of  the  door  blew  out  the 
candle,  and  Everard  was  left  in  darkness,  save  where  the 
moonshine,  which  the  long  side-row  of  latticed  windows 
dimmed,  could  imperfectly  force  its  way  into  the  gal- 
lery, which  lay  in  ghostly  length  before  him. 

The  melancholy  and  doubtful  twilight  was  increased 
by  a  quantity  of  creeping  plants  on  the  outside,  which, 
since  all  had  been  neglected  in  these  ancient  halls,  now 
completely  overgrown,  had  in  some  instances  greatly 
diminished,  and  in  others  almost  quite  choked  up,  the 
space  of  the  lattices,  extending  between  the  heavy  stone 
shaft-work  which  divided  the  windows,  both  lengthways 
and  across.  On  the  other  side  there  were  no  windows  at 
all,  and  the  gallery  had  been  once  hung  round  with  paint- 
ings, chiefly  portraits,  by  which  that  side  of  the  apart- 
ment had  been  adorned.  Most  of  the  pictures  had  been 
removed,  yet  the  empty  frames  of  some,  and  the  tat- 
tered remnants  of  others,  were  still  visible  along  the 
extent  of  the  waste  gallery;  the  look  of  which  was  so 
desolate,  and  it  appeared  so  well  adapted  for  mischief, 
supposing  there  were  enemies  near  him,  that  Everard 
could  not  help  pausing  at  the  entrance,  and  recommend- 
ing himself  to  God,  ere,  drawing  his  sword,  he  advanced 
into  the  apartment,  treading  as  hghtly  as  possible,  and 
keeping  in  the  shadow  as  much  as  he  could. 

Markham  Everard  was  by  no  means  superstitious, 
but  he  had  the  usual  credulity  of  the  times;  and  though 
he  did  not  yield  easily  to  tales  of  supernatural  visita- 
tions, yet  he  could  not  help  thinking  he  was  in  the  very 
situation  where,  if  such  things  were  ever  permitted, 

198 


WOODSTOCK 

they  might  be  expected  to  take  place,  while  his  own 
stealthy  and  ill-assured  pace,  his  drawn  weapon  and  ex- 
tended arms,  being  the  very  attitude  and  action  of  doubt 
and  suspicion,  tended  to  increase  in  his  mind  the  gloomy 
feeHngs  of  which  they  are  the  usual  indications,  and  with 
which  they  are  constantly  associated.  Under  such  un- 
pleasant impressions,  and  conscious  of  the  neighbour- 
hood of  something  unfriendly.  Colonel  Everard  had  al- 
ready advanced  about  half  along  the  gallery,  when  he 
heard  some  one  sigh  very  near  him,  and  a  low  soft  voice 
pronounce  his  name. 

'Here  I  am,'  he  replied,  while  his  heart  beat  thick  and 
short.   'Who  calls  on  Markham  Everard?' 

Another  sigh  was  the  only  answer. 

'Speak,'  said  the  colonel,  'whoever  or  whatsoever 
you  are,  and  tell  with  what  intent  and  purpose  you  are 
lurking  in  these  apartments?' 

'With  a  better  intent  than  yours,'  returned  the  soft 
voice. 

'Than  mine!*  answered  Everard  in  great  surprise. 
'Who  are  you  that  dare  judge  of  my  intents?' 

'What  or  who  are  you,  Markham  Everard,  who  wan- 
der by  moonlight  through  these  deserted  halls  of  royalty, 
where  none  should  be  but  those  who  mourn  their  down- 
fall, or  are  sworn  to  avenge  it? ' 

'  It  is  —  and  yet  it  cannot  be,'  said  Everard;  'yet  it  is, 
and  must  be.  Alice  Lee,  the  Devil  or  you  speaks.  An- 
swer me,  I  conjure  you.  Speak  openly  —  on  what  dan- 
gerous scheme  are  you  engaged?  where  is  your  father? 
why  are  you  here?  wherefore  do  you  run  so  deadly  a 
venture?  Speak,  I  conjure  you,  AHce  Lee!' 

'  She  whom  you  call  on  is  at  the  distance  of  miles  from 
199 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

this  spot.  What  if  her  Genius  speaks  when  she  is  ab- 
sent? what  if  the  soul  of  an  ancestress  of  hers  and  yours 
were  now  addressing  you?  what  if  — ' 

'Nay,'  answered  Everard,  'but  what  if  the  dearest  of 
human  beings  has  caught  a  touch  of  her  father's  enthu- 
siasm? what  if  she  is  exposing  her  person  to  danger,  her 
reputation  to  scandal,  by  traversing  in  disguise  and 
darkness  a  house  filled  with  armed  men?  Speak  to  me, 
my  fair  cousin,  in  your  own  person.  I  am  furnished  with 
powers  to  protect  my  uncle.  Sir  Henry  —  to  protect  you 
too,  dearest  Alice,  even  against  the  consequences  of  this 
visionary  and  wild  attempt.  Speak  —  I  see  where  you 
are,  and,  with  all  my  respect,  I  cannot  submit  to  be  thus 
practised  upon.  Trust  me  —  trust  your  cousin  Mark- 
ham  with  your  hand,  and  believe  that  he  will  die  or  place 
you  in  honourable  safety.' 

As  he  spoke,  he  exercised  his  eyes  as  keenly  as  possi- 
ble to  detect  where  the  speaker  stood,  and  it  seemed  to 
him  that  about  three  yards  from  him  there  was  a  shad- 
owy form,  of  which  he  could  not  discern  even  the  out- 
line, placed  as  it  was  within  the  deep  and  prolonged 
shadow  thrown  by  a  space  of  wall  intervening  betwixt 
two  windows,  upon  that  side  of  the  room  from  which 
the  light  was  admitted.  He  endeavoured  to  calculate, 
as  well  as  he  could,  the  distance  betwixt  himself  and  the 
object  which  he  watched,  under  the  impression  that,  if, 
by  even  using  a  slight  degree  of  compulsion,  he  could 
detach  his  beloved  Alice  from  the  confederacy  into 
which  he  supposed  her  father's  zeal  for  the  cause  of 
royalty  had  engaged  her,  he  would  be  rendering  them 
both  the  most  essential  favour.  He  could  not  indeed 
but  conclude  that,  however  successfully  the  plot  which 

200 


WOODSTOCK 

he  conceived  to  be  in  agitation  had  proceeded  against 
the  timid  Bletson,  the  stupid  Desborough,  and  the 
crazy  Harrison,  there  was  little  doubt  that  at  length 
their  artifices  must  necessarily  bring  shame  and  danger 
on  those  engaged  in  it. 

It  must  also  be  remembered,  that  Everard's  affection 
to  his  cousin,  although  of  the  most  respectful  and  de- 
voted character,  partook  less  of  the  distant  veneration 
which  a  lover  of  those  days  entertained  for  the  lady 
whom  he  worshipped  with  humble  diffidence,  than  of 
the  fond  and  familiar  feelings  which  a  brother  enter- 
tains towards  a  younger  sister,  whom  he  thinks  himself 
entitled  to  guide,  advise,  and  even  in  some  degree  to 
control.  So  kindly  and  intimate  had  been  their  inter- 
course, that  he  had  little  more  hesitation  in  endeavour- 
ing to  arrest  her  progress  in  the  dangerous  course  in 
which  she  seemed  to  be  engaged,  even  at  the  risk  of  giv- 
ing her  momentary  offence,  than  he  would  have  had  in 
snatching  her  from  a  torrent  or  conflagration,  at  the 
chance  of  hurting  her  by  the  violence  of  his  grasp.  All 
this  passed  through  his  mind  in  the  course  of  a  single 
minute;  and  he  resolved  at  all  events  to  detain  her  on 
the  spot,  and  compel,  if  possible,  an  explanation  from  her. 

With  this  purpose,  Everard  again  conjured  his  cousin, 
in  the  name  of  Heaven,  to  give  up  this  idle  and  danger- 
ous mummery;  and  lending  an  accurate  ear  to  her 
answer,  endeavoured  from  the  sound  to  calculate  as 
nearly  as  possible  the  distance  between  them. 

*I  am  not  she  for  whom  you  take  me,'  said  the  voice; 
'and  dearer  regards  than  aught  connected  with  her  life 
or  death  bid  me  warn  you  to  keep  aloof  and  leave  this 
place.' 

20I 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'Not  till  I  have  convinced  you  of  your  childish  folly,' 
said  the  colonel,  springing  forward,  and  endeavouring  to 
catch  hold  of  her  who  spoke  to  him.  But  no  female  form 
was  within  his  grasp.  On  the  contrary,  he  was  met  by  a 
shock  which  could  come  from  no  woman's  arm,  and 
which  was  rude  enough  to  stretch  him  on  his  back  on  the 
floor.  At  the  same  time  he  felt  the  point  of  a  sword  at 
his  throat,  and  his  hands  so  completely  mastered,  that 
not  the  slightest  defence  remained  to  him. 

*A  cry  for  assistance,'  said  a  voice  near  him,  but  not 
that  which  he  had  hitherto  heard, '  will  be  stifled  in  your 
blood.  No  harm  is  meant  you  —  be  wise,  and  be  silent.' 

The  fear  of  death,  which  Everard  had  often  braved  in 
the  field  of  battle,  became  more  intense  as  he  felt  him- 
self in  the  hands  of  unknown  assassins,  and  totally  de- 
void of  all  means  of  defence.  The  sharp  point  of  the 
sword  pricked  his  bare  throat,  and  the  foot  of  him  who 
held  it  was  upon  his  breast.  He  felt  as  if  a  single  thrust 
would  put  an  end  to  life,  and  all  the  feverish  joys  and 
sorrows  which  agitate  us  so  strangely,  and  from  which 
we  are  yet  so  reluctant  to  part.  Large  drops  of  perspira- 
tion stood  upon  his  forehead;  his  heart  throbbed,  as  if 
it  would  burst  from  its  confinement  in  the  bosom ;  he  ex- 
perienced the  agony  which  fear  imposes  on  the  brave 
man,  acute  in  proportion  to  that  which  pain  inflicts 
when  it  subdues  the  robust  and  healthy. 

'  Cousin  Alice,'  he  attempted  to  speak,  and  the  sword's- 
point  pressed  his  throat  yet  more  closely  —  *  cousin,  let 
me  not  be  murdered  in  a  manner  so  fearful.' 

*I  tell  you,'  replied  the  voice,  'that  you  speak  to  one 
who  is  not  here;  but  your  life  is  not  aimed  at,  provided 
you  swear  on  your  faith  as  a  Christian  and  your  honour 

202 


WOODSTOCK 

as  a  gentleman  that  you  will  conceal  what  has  happened, 
whether  from  the  people  below  or  from  any  other  person. 
On  this  condition  you  may  rise;  and  if  you  seek  her, 
you  will  find  Alice  Lee  at  Joceline's  cottage  in  the  forest.' 

'Since  I  may  not  help  myself  otherwise/  said  Ever- 
ard,  *  I  swear,  as  I  have  a  sense  of  religion  and  honour,  I 
will  say  nothing  of  this  violence,  nor  make  any  search 
after  those  who  are  concerned  in  it.' 

*  For  that  we  care  nothing,'  said  the  voice.  '  Thou  hast 
an  example  how  well  thou  mayst  catch  mischief  on  thy 
own  part;  but  we  are  in  case  to  defy  thee.  Rise  and  be- 
gone.' 

The  foot,  the  sword's-point,  were  withdrawn,  and 
Everard  was  about  to  start  up  hastily,  when  the  voice, 
in  the  same  softness  of  tone  which  distinguished  it  at 
first,  said, '  No  haste  —  cold  and  bare  steel  is  yet  around 
thee.  Now  —  now  —  now  [the  words  dying  away  as  at 
a  distance]  —  thou  art  free.  Be  secret  and  be  safe.' 

Markham  Everard  arose,  and,  in  rising,  embarrassed 
his  feet  with  his  own  sword,  which  he  had  dropped  when 
springing  forward,  as  he  supposed,  to  lay  hold  of  his  fair 
cousin.  He  snatched  it  up  in  haste,  and  as  his  hand 
clasped  the  hilt,  his  courage,  which  had  given  way  under 
the  apprehension  of  instant  death,  began  to  return;  he 
considered,  with  almost  his  usual  composure,  what  was 
to  be  done  next.  Deeply  affronted  at  the  disgrace  which 
he  had  sustained,  he  questioned  for  an  instant  whether 
he  ought  to  keep  his  extorted  promise,  or  should  not 
rather  summon  assistance,  and  make  haste  to  discover 
and  seize  those  who  had  been  recently  engaged  in  such 
violence  on  his  person.  But  these  persons,  be  they  who 
they  would,  had  had  his  life  in  their  power;  he  had 

203 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

pledged  his  word  in  ransom  of  it;  and  what  was  more,  he 
could  not  divest  himself  of  the  idea  that  his  beloved 
Alice  was  a  confidante,  at  least,  if  not  an  actor,  in  the 
confederacy  which  had  thus  baffled  him.  This  prepos- 
session determined  his  conduct;  for,  though  angry  at  sup- 
posing she  must  have  been  accessory  to  his  personal  ill- 
treatment,  he  could  not  in  any  event  think  of  an  instant 
search  through  the  mansion,  which  might  have  compro- 
mised her  safety,  or  that  of  his  uncle.  'But  I  will  to  the 
hut,'  he  said  —  'I  will  instantly  to  the  hut,  ascertain  her 
share  in  this  wild  and  dangerous  confederacy,  and  snatch 
her  from  ruin,  if  it  be  possible.' 

As,  under  the  influence  of  the  resolution  which  he  had 
formed,  Everard  groped  his  way  through  the  gallery, 
and  regained  the  vestibule,  he  heard  his  name  called  by 
the  well-known  voice  of  Wildrake.  'What  —  ho!  — 
holla!  —  Colonel  Everard  —  Mark  Everard  —  it  is 
dark  as  the  Devil's  mouth  —  speak  —  where  are  you? 
The  witches  are  keeping  their  hellish  sabbath  here,  as 
I  think.  Where  are  you?' 

'  Here  —  here ! '  answered  Everard.  '  Cease  your  bawl- 
ing. Turn  to  the  left,  and  you  will  meet  me.' 

Guided  by  his  voice,  Wildrake  soon  appeared,  with  a 
light  in  one  hand  and  his  drawn  sword  in  the  other. 
'Where  have  you  been?'  he  said  —  'what  has  detained 
you?  Here  are  Bletson  and  the  brute  Desborough  terri- 
fied out  of  their  Uves,  and  Harrison  raving  mad,  be- 
cause the  Devil  will  not  be  civil  enough  to  rise  to  fight 
him  in  single  duello.^ 

'  Saw  or  heard  you  nothing  as  you  came  along? '  said 
Everard. 

'Nothing,'  said  his  friend,  'excepting  that,  when  I 

204 


WOODSTOCK 

first  entered  this  cursed  ruinous  labyrinth,  the  light  was 
struck  out  of  my  hand,  as  if  by  a  switch,  which  obliged 
me  to  return  for  another.' 

*I  must  come  by  a  horse  instantly,  Wildrake,  and 
another  for  thyself,  if  it  be  possible.' 

*We  can  take  two  of  those  belonging  to  the  troopers,' 
answered  Wildrake.  'But  for  what  purpose  should  we 
run  away,  like  rats,  at  this  time  in  the  evening?  Is  the 
house  falling?' 

*I  cannot  answer  you,'  said  the  colonel,  pushing  for- 
ward into  a  room  where  there  were  some  remains  of  fur- 
niture. 

Here  the  Cavalier  took  a  more  strict  view  of  his  per- 
son, and  exclaimed  in  wonder, '  What  the  devil  have  you 
been  fighting  with,  Markham,  that  has  bedizened  you 
after  this  sorry  fashion? ' 

'Fighting!'  exclaimed  Everard. 

'Yes,'  replied  his  trusty  attendant,  'I  say  fighting. 
Look  at  yourself  in  the  mirror.' 

He  did,  and  saw  he  was  covered  with  dust  and  blood. 
The  latter  proceeded  from  a  scratch  which  he  had  re- 
ceived in  the  throat,  as  he  struggled  to  extricate  himself. 
With  unaffected  alarm,  Wildrake  undid  his  friend's 
collar,  and  with  eager  haste  proceeded  to  examine  the 
wound,  his  hands  trembling,  and  his  eyes  glistening  with 
apprehension  for  his  benefactor's  Hfe.  When,  in  spite  of 
Everard's  opposition,  he  had  examined  the  hurt,  and 
found  it  trifling,  he  resumed  the  natural  wildness  of  his 
character,  perhaps  the  more  readily  that  he  had  felt 
shame  in  departing  from  it  into  one  which  expressed 
more  of  feeling  than  he  would  be  thought  to  possess. 

'If  that  be  the  Devil's  work,  Mark,'  said  he, '  the  Foul 
205 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

Fiend's  claws  are  not  nigh  so  formidable  as  they  are  re- 
presented; but  no  one  shall  say  that  your  blood  has  been 
shed  unrevenged,  while  Roger  Wildrake  was  by  your 
side.  Where  left  you  this  same  imp?  I  will  back  to 
the  field  of  fight,  confront  him  with  my  rapier,  and  were 
his  nails  tenpenny  nails,  and  his  teeth  as  long  as  those  of 
a  harrow,  he  shall  render  me  reason  for  the  injury  he  has 
done  you.' 

'Madness  —  madness!'  exclaimed  Everard;  'I  had 
this  trifling  hurt  by  a  fall ;  a  basin  and  towel  will  wipe  it 
away.  Meanwhile,  if  you  will  ever  do  me  kindness,  get 
the  troop-horses:  command  them  for  the  service  of  the 
public,  in  the  name  of  his  Excellency  the  General.  I  will 
but  wash,  and  join  you  in  an  instant  before  the  gate.' 

*  Well,  I  will  serve  you,  Everard,  as  a  mute  serves  the 
Grand  Signior,  without  knowing  why  or  wherefore.  But 
will  you  go  without  seeing  these  people  below? ' 

'Without  seeing  any  one,'  said  Everard;  'lose  no  time, 
for  God's  sake.' 

He  found  out  the  non-commissioned  officer,  and  de- 
manded the  horses  in  a  tone  of  authority,  to  which  the 
corporal  yielded  undisputed  obedience,  as  one  well  aware 
of  Colonel  Everard's  military  rank  and  consequence. 
So  all  was  in  a  minute  or  two  ready  for  the  expedition. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

She  kneel'd,  and  saint-like 
Cast  her  fair  eyes  to  heaven,  and  pray'd  devoutly. 

King  Henry  VIII. 

Colonel  Everard's  departure  at  the  late  hour,  for  so 
it  was  then  thought,  of  seven  in  the  evening  excited 
much  speculation.  There  was  a  gathering  of  menials 
and  dependents  in  the  outer  chamber,  or  hall,  for  no  one 
doubted  that  his  sudden  departure  was  owing  to  his  hav- 
ing, as  they  expressed  it,  'seen  something,'  and  all  de- 
sired to  know  how  a  man  of  such  acknowledged  courage 
as  Everard  looked  under  the  awe  of  a  recent  apparition. 
But  he  gave  them  no  time  to  make  comments ;  for,  strid- 
ing through  the  hall  wrapt  in  his  riding-suit,  he  threw 
himself  on  horseback,  and  rode  furiously  through  the 
chase,  towards  the  hut  of  the  keeper  JoHfife. 

It  was  the  disposition  of  Markham  Everard  to  be  hot, 
keen,  earnest,  impatient,  and  decisive  to  a  degree  of 
precipitation.  The  acquired  habits  which  education  had 
taught,  and  which  the  strong  moral  and  rehgious  disci- 
pline of  his  sect  had  greatly  strengthened,  were  such  as 
to  enable  him  to  conceal,  as  well  as  to  check,  this  con- 
stitutional violence,  and  to  place  him  upon  his  guard 
against  indulging  it.  But  when  in  the  high  tide  of  violent 
excitation,  the  natural  impetuosity  of  the  young  soldier's 
temper  was  sometimes  apt  to  overcome  these  artificial 
obstacles,  and  then,  like  a  torrent  foaming  over  a  wear,  it 
became  more  furious  as  if  in  revenge  for  the  constrained 

207 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

calm  which  it  had  been  for  some  time  obliged  to  assume. 
In  these  instances  he  was  accustomed  to  see  only  that 
point  to  which  his  thoughts  were  bent,  and  to  move 
straight  towards  it,  whether  a  moral  object  or  the  storm- 
ing of  a  breach,  without  either  calculating  or  even  ap- 
pearing to  see  the  difficulties  which  were  before  him. 

At  present,  his  ruling  and  impelling  motive  was  to  de- 
tach his  beloved  cousin,  if  possible,  from  the  dangerous 
and  discreditable  machinations  in  which  he  suspected 
her  to  have  engaged,  or,  on  the  other  hand,  to  discover 
that  she  really  had  no  concern  with  these  stratagems. 
He  should  know  how  to  judge  of  that  in  some  measure, 
he  thought,  by  finding  her  present  or  absent  at  the  hut, 
towards  which  he  was  now  galloping.  He  had  read,  in- 
deed, in  some  ballad  or  minstrel's  tale,  of  a  singular  de- 
ception practised  on  a  jealous  old  man  by  means  of  a 
subterranean  communication  between  his  house  and  that 
of  a  neighbour,  which  the  lady  in  question  made  use  of 
to  present  herself  in  the  two  places  alternately  with  such 
speed  and  so  much  address  that,  after  repeated  experi- 
ments, the  dotard  was  deceived  in  the  opinion  that  his 
wife,  and  the  lady  who  was  so  very  like  her,  and  to  whom 
his  neighbour  paid  so  much  attention,  were  two  differ- 
ent persons.  But  in  the  present  case  there  was  no  room 
for  such  a  deception :  the  distance  was  too  great,  and  as 
he  took  by  much  the  nearest  way  from  the  castle,  and 
rode  full  speed,  it  would  be  impossible,  he  knew,  for  his 
cousin,  who  was  a  timorous  horsewoman  even  by  day- 
light, to  have  got  home  before  him. 

Her  father  might  indeed  be  displeased  at  his  interfer- 
ence; but  what  title  had  he  to  be  so?  Was  not  Alice  Lee 
the  near  relation  of  his  blood,  the  dearest  object  of  his 

2oS 


WOODSTOCK 

heart,  and  would  he  now  abstain  from  an  effort  to  save 
her  from  the  consequences  of  a  silly  and  wild  conspiracy, 
because  the  old  knight's  spleen  might  be  awakened  by 
Everard's  making  his  appearance  at  their  present  dwell- 
ing contrary  to  his  commands?  No.  He  would  endure 
the  old  man's  harsh  language,  as  he  endured  the  blast 
of  the  autumn  wind,  which  was  howling  around  him,  and 
swinging  the  crashing  branches  of  the  trees  under  which 
he  passed,  but  could  not  oppose,  or  even  retard,  his  jour- 
ney. 

If  he  found  not  Alice,  as  he  had  reason  to  believe  she 
would  be  absent,  to  Sir  Henry  Lee  himself  he  would  ex- 
plain what  he  had  witnessed.  However  she  might  have 
become  accessory  to  the  juggling  tricks  performed  at 
Woodstock,  he  could  not  but  think  it  was  without  her 
father's  knowledge,  so  severe  a  judge  was  the  old  knight 
of  female  propriety,  and  so  strict  an  assertor  of  female 
decorum.  He  would  take  the  same  opportunity,  he 
thought,  of  stating  to  him  the  well-grounded  hopes  he 
entertained  that  his  dwelling  at  the  lodge  might  be  pro- 
longed, and  the  sequestrators  removed  from  the  royal 
mansion  and  domains,  by  other  means  than  those  of  the 
absurd  species  of  intimidation  which  seemed  to  be  re- 
sorted to,  to  scare  them  from  thence. 

All  this  seemed  to  be  so  much  within  the  line  of  his 
duty  as  a  relative,  that  it  was  not  until  he  halted  at  the 
door  of  the  ranger's  hut,  and  threw  his  bridle  into  Wild- 
rake's  hand,  that  Everard  recollected  the  fiery,  high, 
and  unbending  character  of  Sir  Henry  Lee,  and  felt, 
even  when  his  fingers  were  on  the  latch,  a  reluctance  to 
intrude  himself  upon  the  presence  of  the  irritable  old 
knight. 

87  209 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

But  there  was  no  time  for  hesitation.  Bevis,  who  had 
already  bayed  more  than  once  from  within  the  lodge,  was 
growing  impatient,  and  Everard  had  but  just  time  to 
bid  Wildrake  hold  the  horses  until  he  should  send  Joce- 
line  to  his  assistance,  when  old  Joan  unpinned  the  door, 
to  demand  who  was  without  at  that  time  of  the  night. 
To  have  attempted  anything  like  an  explanation  with 
poor  Dame  Joan  would  have  been  quite  hopeless;  the 
colonel  therefore  put  her  gently  aside,  and  shaking  him- 
self loose  from  the  hold  she  had  laid  on  his  cloak,  en- 
tered the  kitchen  of  Jocehne's  dwelUng.  Bevis,  who  had 
advanced  to  support  Joan  in  her  opposition,  humbled 
his  lion  port,  with  that  wonderful  instinct  which  makes 
his  race  remember  so  long  those  with  whom  they  have 
been  familiar,  and  acknowledged  his  master's  relative 
by  doing  homage  in  his  fashion  with  his  head  and  tail. 

Colonel  Everard,  more  uncertain  in  his  purpose  every 
moment  as  the  necessity  of  its  execution  drew  near,  stole 
over  the  floor  like  one  who  treads  in  a  sick-chamber,  and 
opening  the  door  of  the  interior  apartment  with  a  slow 
and  trembling  hand,  as  he  would  have  withdrawn  the 
curtains  of  a  dying  friend,  he  saw  within  the  scene  which 
we  are  about  to  describe. 

Sir  Henry  Lee  sat  in  a  wicker  arm-chair  by  the  fire. 
He  was  wrapped  in  a  cloak,  and  his  limbs  extended  on 
a  stool,  as  if  he  were  suffering  from  gout  or  indisposition. 
His  long  white  beard,  flowing  over  the  dark-coloured 
garment,  gave  him  more  the  appearance  of  a  hermit  than 
of  an  aged  soldier  or  man  of  quality;  and  that  character 
was  increased  by  the  deep  and  devout  attention  with 
which  he  listened  to  a  respectable  old  man,  whose  dilapi- 
dated dress  showed  still  something  of  the  clerical  habit, 

2IO 


WOODSTOCK 

and  who,  with  a  low,  but  full  and  deep,  voice,  was  read- 
ing the  Evening  Service  according  to  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land. Alice  Lee  kneeled  at  the  feet  of  her  father,  and 
made  the  responses  with  a  voice  that  might  have  suited 
the  choir  of  angels,  and  a  modest  and  serious  devotion 
which  suited  the  melody  of  her  tone.  The  face  of  the 
officiating  clergyman  would  have  been  good-looking  had 
it  not  been  disfigured  with  a  black  patch  which  covered 
the  left  eye  and  a  part  of  his  face,  and  had  not  the  fea- 
tures which  were  visible  been  marked  with  the  traces  of 
care  and  suffering. 

When  Colonel  Everard  entered,  the  clergyman  raised 
his  finger,  as  cautioning  him  to  forbear  disturbing  the 
divine  service  of  the  evening,  and  pointed  to  a  seat;  to 
which,  struck  deeply  with  the  scene  he  had  witnessed, 
the  intruder  stole  with  as  light  a  step  as  possible,  and 
knelt  devoutly  down  as  one  of  the  httle  congregation. 

Everard  had  been  bred  by  his  father  what  was  called 
a  Puritan  —  a  member  of  a  sect  who,  in  the  primitive 
sense  of  the  word,  were  persons  that  did  not  except 
against  the  doctrines  of  the  Church  of  England,  or  even 
in  all  respects  against  its  hierarchy,  but  chiefly  dissented 
from  it  on  the  subject  of  certain  ceremonies,  habits,  and 
forms  of  ritual,  which  were  insisted  upon  by  the  cele- 
brated and  unfortunate  Laud  with  ill-timed  tenacity. 
But  even  if,  from  the  habits  of  his  father's  house,  Ever- 
ard's  opinions  had  been  diametrically  opposed  to  the  doc- 
trines of  the  EngUsh  Church,  he  must  have  been  recon- 
ciled to  them  by  the  regularity  with  which  the  service 
was  performed  in  his  uncle's  family  at  Woodstock,  who, 
during  the  blossom  of  his  fortunes,  generally  had  a  chap- 
lain residing  in  the  lodge  for  that  special  purpose. 

211 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Yet,  deep  as  was  the  habitual  veneration  with  which 
he  heard  the  impressive  service  of  the  church,  Everard's 
eyes  could  not  help  straying  towards  Alice  and  his 
thoughts  wandering  to  the  purpose  of  his  presence  there. 
She  seemed  to  have  recognised  him  at  once,  for  there 
was  a  deeper  glow  than  usual  upon  her  cheek,  her  fingers 
trembled  as  they  turned  the  leaves  of  her  prayer-book, 
and  her  voice,  lately  as  firm  as  it  was  melodious,  faltered 
when  she  repeated  the  responses.  It  appeared  to  Ever- 
ard,  as  far  as  he  could  collect  by  the  stolen  glances  which 
he  directed  towards  her,  that  the  character  of  her  beauty 
as  well  as  of  her  outward  appearance,  had  changed  with 
her  fortunes. 

The  beautiful  and  high-born  young  lady  had  now 
approached  as  nearly  as  possible  to  the  brown  stuff  dress 
of  an  ordinary  village  maiden;  but  what  she  had  lost 
in  gaiety  of  appearance,  she  had  gained  as  it  seemed  in 
dignity.  Her  beautiful  light-brown  tresses,  now  folded 
around  her  head,  and  only  curled  where  nature  had  so 
arranged  them,  gave  her  an  air  of  simplicity  which  did 
not  exist  when  her  head-dress  showed  the  skill  of  a  curi- 
ous tirewoman.  A  hght,  joyous  air,  with  something  of  a 
humorous  expression,  which  seemed  to  be  looking  for 
amusement,  had  vanished  before  the  touch  of  affliction, 
and  a  calm  melancholy  supplied  its  place,  which  seemed 
on  the  watch  to  administer  comfort  to  others.  Perhaps 
the  former  arch,  though  innocent,  expression  of  counte- 
nance was  uppermost  in  her  lover's  recollection  when  he 
concluded  that  Alice  had  acted  a  part  in  the  disturb- 
ances which  had  taken  place  at  the  lodge.  It  is  certain 
that,  when  he  now  looked  upon  her,  it  was  with  shame 
for  having  nourished  such  a  suspicion,  and  the  resolution 

212 


WOODSTOCK 

to  believe  rather  that  the  Devil  had  imitated  her  voice 
than  that  a  creature  who  seemed  so  much  above  the 
feelings  of  this  world,  and  so  nearly  allied  to  the  purity 
of  the  next,  should  have  had  the  indelicacy  to  mingle 
in  such  manoeuvres  as  he  himself  and  others  had  been 
subjected  to. 

These  thoughts  shot  through  his  mind,  in  spite  of  the 
impropriety  of  indulging  them  at  such  a  moment.  The 
service  now  approached  the  close;  and,  a  good  deal  to 
Colonel  Everard's  surprise  as  well  as  confusion,  the 
ofi&ciating  priest,  in  firm  and  audible  tone,  and  with 
every  attribute  of  dignity,  prayed  to  the  Almighty  to 
bless  and  preserve  'Our  Sovereign  Lord,  King  Charles, 
the  lawful  and  undoubted  king  of  these  realms.'  The 
petition  (in  those  days  most  dangerous)  was  pronounced 
with  a  full,  raised,  and  distinct  articulation,  as  if  the 
priest  challenged  all  who  heard  him  to  dissent  if  they 
dared.  If  the  repubhcan  officer  did  not  assent  to  the 
petition,  he  thought  at  least  it  was  no  time  to  protest 
against  it. 

The  service  was  concluded  in  the  usual  manner,  and 
the  little  congregation  arose.  It  now  included  Wildrake, 
who  had  entered  during  the  latter  prayer,  and  was  the 
first  of  the  party  to  speak,  running  up  to  the  priest  and 
shaking  him  by  the  hand  most  heartily,  swearing  at  the 
same  time  that  he  truly  rejoiced  to  see  him.  The  good 
clergyman  returned  the  pressure  with  a  smile,  observing, 
he  should  have  believed  his  asseveration  without  an 
oath.  In  the  mean  while.  Colonel  Everard,  approaching 
his  uncle's  seat,  made  a  deep  inclination  of  respect,  first 
to  Sir  Henry  Lee  and  then  to  Alice,  whose  colour  now 
spread  from  her  cheek  to  her  brow  and  bosom. 

213 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

*I  have  to  crave  your  excuse,'  said  the  colonel  with 
hesitation, '  for  having  chosen  for  my  visit,  which  I  dare 
not  hope  would  be  very  agreeable  at  any  time,  a  season 
most  peculiarly  unsuitable.' 

*So  far  from  it,  nephew,'  answered  Sir  Henry,  with 
much  more  mildness  of  manner  than  Everard  had  dared 
to  expect,  'that  your  visits  at  other  times  would  be 
much  more  welcome  had  we  the  fortune  to  see  you  often 
at  our  hours  of  worship.' 

*  I  hope  the  time  will  soon  come,  sir,  when  Englishmen 
of  all  sects  and  denominations,'  replied  Everard,  'will  be 
free  in  conscience  to  worship  in  common  the  great 
Father,  whom  they  all  after  their  manner  call  by  that 
affectionate  name.' 

*I  hope  so  too,  nephew,'  said  the  old  man  in  the  same 
unaltered  tone;  'and  we  will  not  at  present  dispute 
whether  you  would  have  the  Church  of  England  coalesce 
with  the  Conventicle  or  the  Conventicle  conform  to  the 
Church.  It  was,  I  ween,  not  to  settle  jarring  creeds  that 
you  have  honoured  our  poor  dwelHng,  where,  to  say  the 
truth,  we  dared  scarce  have  expected  to  see  you  again, 
so  coarse  was  our  last  welcome.' 

'I  should  be  happy  to  believe,'  said  Colonel  Everard, 
hesitating,  '  that  —  that  —  in  short,  my  presence  was 
not  now  so  unwelcome  here  as  on  that  occasion.' 

'Nephew,'  said  Sir  Henry,  'I  will  be  frank  with  you. 
When  you  were  last  here,  I  thought  you  had  stolen  from 
me  a  precious  pearl,  which  at  one  time  it  would  have 
been  my  pride  and  happiness  to  have  bestowed  on  you ; 
but  which,  being  such  as  you  have  been  of  late,  I  would 
bury  in  the  depths  of  the  earth  rather  than  give  to  your 
keeping.   This  somewhat  chafed,  as  honest  Will  says, 

214 


WOODSTOCK 

"the  rash  humour  which  my  mother  gave  me."  I 
thought  I  was  robbed,  and  I  thought  I  saw  the  rob- 
ber before  me.  I  am  mistaken:  I  am  not  robbed;  and 
the  attempt  without  the  deed  I  can  pardon.' 

'I  would  not  willingly  seek  ojffence  in  your  words,  sir,' 
said  Colonel  Everard,  'when  their  general  purport 
sounds  kind ;  but  I  can  protest  before  Heaven  that  my 
views  and  wishes  towards  you  and  your  family  are  as 
void  of  selfish  hopes  and  selfish  ends  as  they  are  fraught 
with  love  to  you  and  to  yours.' 

'Let  us  hear  them,  man;  we  are  not  much  accustomed 
to  good  wishes  nowadays,  and  their  very  rarity  will 
make  them  welcome.' 

*I  would  willingly,  Sir  Henry,  since  you  might  not 
choose  me  to  give  you  a  more  afTectionate  name,  convert 
those  wishes  into  something  effectual  for  your  comfort. 
Your  fate,  as  the  world  now  stands,  is  bad,  and,  I  fear, 
like  to  be  worse.' 

'Worse  than  I  expect  it  cannot  be.  Nephew,  I  do  not 
shrink  before  my  changes  of  fortune.  I  shall  wear 
coarser  clothes,  I  shall  feed  on  more  ordinary  food ;  men 
will  not  doff  their  cap  to  me  as  they  were  wont,  when  I 
was  the  great  and  the  wealthy.  What  of  that?  Old 
Harry  Lee  loved  his  honour  better  than  his  title,  his  faith 
better  than  his  land  and  lordship.  Have  I  not  seen  the 
30th  of  January?  I  am  neither  philomath  nor  astrologer; 
but  old  Will  teaches  me  that  when  green  leaves  fall 
winter  is  at  hand,  and  that  darkness  will  come  when  the 
sun  sets.' 

'Bethink  you,  sir,'  said  Colonel  Everard,  'if,  without 
any  submission  asked,  any  oath  taken,  any  engagement 
imposed,  express  or  tacit,  excepting  that  you  are  not  to 

215 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

excite  disturbances  in  the  public  peace,  you  can  be 
restored  to  your  residence  in  the  lodge,  and  your  usual 
fortunes  and  perquisites  there  —  I  have  great  reason  to 
hope  this  may  be  permitted,  if  not  expressly,  at  least  on 
sufferance.' 

'  Yes,  I  understand  you.  I  am  to  be  treated  like  the 
royal  coin,  marked  with  the  ensign  of  the  Rump,  to 
make  it  pass  current,  although  I  am  too  old  to  have  the 
royal  insignia  grinded  off  from  me.  Kinsman,  I  will  have 
none  of  this.  I  have  Hved  at  the  lodge  too  long;  and  let 
me  tell  you,  I  had  left  it  in  scorn  long  since,  but  for  the 
orders  of  one  whom  I  may  yet  live  to  do  service  to.  I 
will  take  nothing  from  the  usurpers,  be  their  name 
Rump  or  Cromwell  —  be  they  one  devil  or  legion :  I  will 
not  take  from  them  an  old  cap  to  cover  my  grey  hairs,  a 
cast  cloak  to  protect  my  frail  limbs  from  the  cold.  They 
shall  not  say  they  have,  by  their  unwilling  bounty,  made 
Abraham  rich.  I  will  hve,  as  I  will  die,  the  Loyal  Lee.' 

'May  I  hope  you  will  think  of  it,  sir;  and  that  you 
will,  perhaps,  considering  what  slight  submission  is 
asked,  give  me  a  better  answer?' 

'  Sir,  if  I  retract  my  opinion,  which  is  not  my  wont, 
you  shall  hear  of  it.  And  now,  cousin,  have  you  more  to 
say?  We  keep  that  worthy  clergyman  in  the  outer  room.' 

'  Something  I  had  to  say  —  something  touching  my 
cousin  Alice,'  said  Everard,  with  embarrassment;  'but  I 
fear  that  the  prejudices  of  both  are  so  strong  against 
me  — ' 

'  Sir,  I  dare  turn  my  daughter  loose  to  you.  I  will  go 
join  the  good  doctor  in  Dame  Joan's  apartment.  I  am 
not  unwilling  that  you  should  know  that  the  girl  hath,  in 
all  reasonable  sort,  the  exercise  of  her  free  will.' 

216 


WOODSTOCK 

He  withdrew,  and  left  the  cousins  together. 

Colonel  Everard  advanced  to  Alice,  and  was  about  to 
take  her  hand.  She  drew  back,  took  the  seat  which  her 
father  had  occupied,  and  pointed  out  to  him  one  at  some 
distance. 

'Are  we  then  so  much  estranged,  my  dearest  Alice?' 
he  said. 

'We  will  speak  of  that  presently,'  she  replied.  'In  the 
first  place,  let  me  ask  the  cause  of  your  visit  here  at  so 
late  an  hour.' 

'You  heard,'  said  Everard,  'what  I  stated  to  your 
father?' 

'  I  did ;  but  that  seems  to  have  been  only  part  of  your 
errand:  something  there  seemed  to  be  which  applied 
particularly  to  me.' 

'It  was  a  fancy  —  a  strange  mistake,'  answered 
Everard.  'May  I  ask  if  you  have  been  abroad  this 
evening?' 

'  Certainly  not,'  she  replied.  'I  have  small  temptation 
to  wander  from  my  present  home,  poor  as  it  is;  and 
whilst  here  I  have  important  duties  to  discharge.  But 
why  does  Colonel  Everard  ask  so  strange  a  question?' 

'Tell  me  in  turn,  why  your  cousin  Markham  has  lost 
the  name  of  friendship  and  kindred,  and  even  of  some 
nearer  feeling,  and  then  I  will  answer  you,  Alice.' 

'  It  is  soon  answered,'  she  said.  '  When  you  drew  your 
sword  against  my  father's  cause,  almost  against  his  per- 
son, I  studied,  more  than  I  should  have  done,  to  find 
excuse  for  you.  I  knew  —  that  is,  I  thought  I  knew  — 
your  high  feelings  of  public  duty.  I  knew  the  opinions  in 
which  you  had  been  bred  up;  and  I  said,  "I  will  not, 
even  for  this,  cast  him  off:  he  opposes  his  King  because 

217 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

he  is  loyal  to  his  country."  You  endeavoured  to  avert 
the  great  and  concluding  tragedy  of  the  30th  of  January, 
and  it  confirmed  me  in  my  opinion  that  Markham 
Everard  might  be  misled,  but  could  not  be  base  or 
selfish.' 

'And  what  has  changed  your  opinion,  Alice?  or  who 
dare,'  said  Everard,  reddening,  'attach  such  epithets  to 
the  name  of  Markham  Everard? ' 

'  I  am  no  subject,'  she  said,  *  for  exercising  your  valour, 
Colonel  Everard,  nor  do  I  mean  to  offend.  But  you  will 
find  enough  of  others  who  will  avow  that  Colonel  Ever- 
ard is  truckling  to  the  usurper  Cromwell,  and  that  all  his 
fair  pretexts  of  forwarding  his  country's  liberties  are 
but  a  screen  for  driving  a  bargain  with  the  successful 
encroacher,  and  obtaining  the  best  terms  he  can  for 
himself  and  his  family,' 

*  For  myself  —  never ! ' 

'But  for  your  family  you  have.  Yes,  I  am  well  as- 
sured that  you  have  pointed  out  to  the  military  tyrant 
the  way  in  which  he  and  his  satraps  may  master  the 
government.  Do  you  think  my  father  or  I  would  accept 
an  asylum  purchased  at  the  price  of  England's  liberty 
and  your  honour? ' 

'  Gracious  Heaven,  Alice,  what  is  this?  You  accuse  me 
of  pursuing  the  very  course  which  so  lately  had  your 
approbation ! ' 

'  When  you  spoke  with  authority  of  your  father,  and  re- 
commended our  submission  to  the  existing  government, 
such  as  it  was,  I  own  I  thought  —  that  my  father's 
grey  head  might,  without  dishonour,  have  remained  un- 
der the  roof  where  it  had  so  long  been  sheltered.  But 
did  your  father  sanction  your  becoming  the  adviser  of 

218 


WOODSTOCK 

yonder  ambitious  soldier  to  a  new  course  of  innovation, 
and  his  abettor  in  the  establishment  of  a  new  species  of 
tyranny?  It  is  one  thing  to  submit  to  oppression,  an- 
other to  be  the  agent  of  tyrants.  And  0,  Markham  — 
—  their  bloodhound ! ' 

'How!  bloodhound?  What  mean  you?  I  own  it  is  true 
I  could  see  with  content  the  wounds  of  this  bleeding 
country  stanched,  even  at  the  expense  of  beholding 
Cromwell,  after  his  matchless  rise,  take  a  yet  further 
step  to  power  —  but  to  be  his  bloodhound !  What  is 
your  meaning? ' 

'  It  is  false,  then?  I  thought  I  could  swear  it  had  been 
false!' 

'What,  in  the  name  of  God,  is  it  you  ask?' 

'  It  is  false  that  you  are  engaged  to  betray  the  young 
King  of  Scotland? ' 

'Betray  him!  I  betray  him,  or  any  fugitive!  Never! 
I  would  he  were  well  out  of  England.  I  would  lend  him 
my  aid  to  escape,  were  he  in  the  house  at  this  instant, 
and  think  in  acting  so  I  did  his  enemies  good  service,  by 
preventing  their  soiUng  themselves  with  his  blood;  but 
betray  him,  never ! ' 

'I  knew  it  —  I  was  sure  it  was  impossible.  Oh,  be  yet 
more  honest:  disengage  yourself  from  yonder  gloomy 
and  ambitious  soldier!  Shun  him  and  his  schemes, 
which  are  formed  in  injustice,  and  can  only  be  reaUsed  in 
yet  more  blood.' 

'BeUeve  me,'  replied  Everard,  'that  I  choose  the  line 
of  poHcy  best  befitting  the  times.' 

'  Choose  that,'  she  said,  'which  best  befits  duty,  Mark- 
ham  —  which  best  befits  truth  and  honour.  Do  your 
duty,  and  let  Providence  decide  the  rest.  Farewell,  we 

219 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

tempt  my  father's  patience  too  far;  you  know  his  temper 
—  farewell,  Markham.' 

She  extended  her  hand,  which  he  pressed  to  his  lips, 
and  left  the  apartment.  A  silent  bow  to  his  uncle,  and  a 
sign  to  Wildrake,  whom  he  found  in  the  kitchen  of  the 
cabin,  were  the  only  tokens  of  recognition  exhibited, 
and  leaving  the  hut,  he  was  soon  mounted,  and,  with  his 
companion,  advanced  on  his  return  to  the  lodge. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

Deeds  are  done  on  earth 
Which  have  their  punishment  ere  the  earth  closes 
Upon  the  perpetrators.   Be  it  the  woriiing 
Of  the  remorse-stirr'd  fancy,  or  the  vision, 
Distinct  and  real,  of  unearthly  being, 
All  ages  witness,  that  beside  the  couch 
Of  the  fell  homicide  oft  stalks  the  ghost 
Of  him  be  slew,  and  shows  the  shadowy  wound. 

Old  Play. 

EvERARD  had  come  to  Joceline's  hut  as  fast  as  horse 
could  bear  him,  and  with  the  same  impetuosity  of  pur- 
pose as  of  speed.  He  saw  no  choice  in  the  course  to  be 
pursued,  and  felt  in  his  own  imagination  the  strongest 
right  to  direct,  and  even  reprove,  his  cousin,  beloved  as 
she  was,  on  account  of  the  dangerous  machinations  with 
which  she  appeared  to  have  connected  herself.  He  re- 
turned slowly,  and  in  a  very  different  mood. 

Not  only  had  Alice,  prudent  as  beautiful,  appeared 
completely  free  from  the  weakness  of  conduct  which 
seemed  to  give  him  some  authority  over  her,  but  her 
views  of  policy,  if  less  practicable,  were  so  much  more 
direct  and  noble  than  his  own,  as  led  him  to  question 
whether  he  had  not  compromised  himself  too  rashly 
with  Cromwell,  even  although  the  state  of  the  country 
was  so  greatly  divided  and  torn  by  faction,  that  the 
promotion  of  the  General  to  the  possession  of  the  execu- 
tive government  seemed  the  only  chance  of  escaping  a 
renewal  of  the  Civil  War.  The  more  exalted  and  purer 
sentiments  of  Alice  lowered  him  in  his  own  eyes;  and 
though  unshaken  in  his  opinion,  that  it  were  better  the 

221 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

vessel  should  be  steered  by  a  pilot  having  no  good  title 
to  the  office  than  that  she  should  run  upon  the  breakers, 
he  felt  that  he  was  not  espousing  the  most  direct,  manly, 
and  disinterested  side  of  the  question. 

As  he  rode  on,  immersed  in  these  unpleasant  contem- 
plations, and  considerably  lessened  in  his  own  esteem  by 
what  had  happened,  Wildrake,  who  rode  by  his  side, 
and  was  no  friend  to  long  silence,  began  to  enter  into 
conversation.  *I  have  been  thinking,  Mark,'  said  he, 
'  that  if  you  and  I  had  been  called  to  the  bar — as,  by  the 
by,  has  been  in  danger  of  happening  to  me  in  more  senses 
than  one  —  I  say,  had  we  become  barristers,  I  would 
have  had  the  better-oiled  tongue  of  the  two  —  the 
fairer  art  of  persuasion.' 

'Perhaps  so,'  replied  Everard,  'though  I  never  heard 
thee  use  any,  save  to  induce  an  usurer  to  lend  thee 
money  or  a  taverner  to  abate  a  reckoning.' 

*  And  yet  this  day,  or  rather  night,  I  could  have,  as  I 
think,  made  a  conquest  which  baffled  you.' 

'Indeed?'  said  the  colonel,  becoming  attentive. 

'Why,  look  you,'  said  Wildrake,  'it  was  a  main  object 
with  you  to  induce  Mistress  Alice  Lee  —  by  Heaven, 
she  is  an  exquisite  creature,  I  approve  of  your  taste, 
Mark  —  I  say,  you  desire  to  persuade  her,  and  the  stout 
old  Trojan  her  father,  to  consent  to  return  to  the  lodge, 
and  live  there  quietly,  and  under  connivance,  like 
gentlefolk,  instead  of  lodging  in  a  hut  hardly  fit  to  har- 
bour a  Tom  of  Bedlam.' 

'Thou  art  right:  such,  indeed,  was  a  great  part  of  my 
object  in  this  visit,'  answered  Everard. 

'  But,  perhaps,  you  also  expected  to  visit  there  your- 
self, and  so  keep  watch  over  pretty  Mistress  Lee  —  eh?' 

222 


WOODSTOCK 

*I  never  entertained  so  selfish  a  thought,'  said  Ever- 
ard;  'and  if  this  nocturnal  disturbance  at  the  mansion 
were  explained  and  ended,  I  would  instantly  take  my 
departure.' 

*  Your  friend  Noll  would  expect  something  more  from 
you,'  said  Wildrake:  'he  would  expect,  in  case  the 
knight's  reputation  for  loyalty  should  draw  any  of  our 
poor  exiles  and  wanderers  about  the  lodge,  that  you 
should  be  on  the  watch  and  ready  to  snap  them.  In 
a  word,  as  far  as  I  can  understand  his  long-winded 
speeches,  he  would  have  Woodstock  a  trap,  your  uncle 
and  his  pretty  daughter  the  bait  of  toasted  cheese  — 
craving  your  Chloe's  pardon  for  the  comparison  —  you 
the  spring-fall  which  should  bar  their  escape,  his  lord- 
ship himself  being  the  great  grimalkin  to  whom  they 
are  to  be  given  over  to  be  devoured.' 

'Dared  Cromwell  mention  this  to  thee  in  express 
terms?'  said  Everard,  pulling  up  his  horse  and  stopping 
in  the  midst  of  the  road. 

'Nay,  not  in  express  terms,  which  I  do  not  believe  he 
ever  used  in  his  Hf e ;  you  might  as  well  expect  a  drunken 
man  to  go  straight  forward;  but  he  insinuated  as  much 
to  me,  and  indicated  that  you  might  deserve  well  of  him 
—  gadzo,  the  damnable  proposal  sticks  in  my  throat  — 
by  betraying  our  noble  and  rightful  King  [here  he  pulled 
ofiE  his  hat],  whom  God  grant  in  health  and  wealth  long 
to  reign,  as  the  worthy  clergyman  says,  though  I  fear 
just  now  his  Majesty  is  both  sick  and  sorry,  and  never 
a  penny  in  his  pouch  to  boot.' 

'This  tallies  with  what  Ahce  hinted,'  said  Everard; 
'but  how  could  she  know  it?  Didst  thou  give  her  any 
hint  of  such  a  thing? ' 

223 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

*I!'  replied  the  Cavalier  —  'I,  who  never  saw  Mis- 
tress Alice  in  my  life  till  to-night,  and  then  only  for  an 
instant  —  zooks,  man,  how  is  that  possible? ' 

'True,'  replied  Everard,  and  seemed  lost  in  thought. 
At  length  he  spoke  —  *  I  should  call  Cromwell  to  ac- 
count for  his  bad  opinion  of  me;  for,  even  though  not 
seriously  expressed,  but,  as  I  am  convinced  it  was,  with 
the  sole  view  of  proving  you,  and  perhaps  myself,  it  was, 
nevertheless,  a  misconstruction  to  be  resented.' 

'  I  '11  carry  a  cartel  for  you,  with  all  my  heart  and  soul,' 
said  Wildrake ;  *  and  turn  out  with  his  godliness's  second 
with  as  good  will  as  I  ever  drank  a  glass  of  sack.' 

'Pshaw,'  replied  Everard,  'those  in  his  high  place 
fight  no  single  combats.  But  tell  me,  Roger  Wildrake, 
didst  thou  thyself  think  me  capable  of  the  falsehood  and 
treachery  impHed  in  such  a  message?' 

*I!'  exclaimed  Wildrake.  'Markham  Everard,  you 
have  been  my  early  friend,  my  constant  benefactor. 
When  Colchester  was  reduced,  you  saved  me  from  the 
gallows,  and  since  that  thou  hast  twenty  times  saved 
me  from  starving.  But,  by  Heaven,  if  I  thought  you 
capable  of  such  villainy  as  your  General  recommended, 
by  yonder  blue  sky,  and  all  the  works  of  creation  which 
it  bends  over,  I  would  stab  you  with  my  own  hand.' 

'Death,'  replied  Everard,  'I  should  indeed  deserve, 
but  not  from  you,  perhaps;  but  fortunately  I  cannot,  if 
I  would,  be  guilty  of  the  treachery  you  would  punish. 
Know,  that  I  had  this  day  secret  notice,  and  from  Crom- 
well himself,  that  the  Young  Man  has  escaped  by  sea 
from  Bristol.' 

'  Now,  God  Almighty  be  blessed,  who  protected  him 
through  so  many  dangers!'  exclaimed  Wildrake.  'Huzza! 

224 


WOODSTOCK 

Up  hearts,  Cavaliers !  Hey  for  Cavaliers !  God  bless  King 
Charles !  Moon  and  stars,  catch  my  hat ! '  and  he  threw 
it  up  as  high  as  he  could  into  the  air.  The  celestial  bod- 
ies which  he  invoked  did  not  receive  the  present  dis- 
patched to  them;  but,  as  in  the  case  of  Sir  Henry  Lee's 
scabbard,  an  old  gnarled  oak  became  a  second  time  the 
receptacle  of  a  waif  and  stray  of  loyal  enthusiasm.  Wild- 
rake  looked  rather  foolish  at  the  circumstance,  and  his 
friend  took  the  opportunity  of  admonishing  him. 

'Art  thou  not  ashamed  to  bear  thee  so  like  a  school- 
boy?' 

*Why,'  said  Wildrake,  *I  have  but  sent  a  Puritan's 
hat  upon  a  loyal  errand.  I  laugh  to  think  how  many  of 
the  schoolboys  thou  talk'st  of  will  be  cheated  into  climb- 
ing the  pollard  next  year,  expecting  to  find  the  nest  of 
some  unknown  bird  in  yonder  unmeasured  margin  of 
felt.' 

*Hush  now,  for  God's  sake,  and  let  us  speak  calmly,' 
said  Everard.  *  Charles  has  escaped,  and  I  am  glad  of  it. 
I  would  willingly  have  seen  him  on  his  father's  throne  by 
composition,  but  not  by  the  force  of  the  Scottish  army 
and  the  incensed  and  vengeful  Royalists  — ' 

'Master  Markham  Everard  —  'began  the  Cavalier, 
interrupting  him. 

'Nay,  hush,  dear  Wildrake,'  said  Everard;  'let  us  not 
dispute  a  point  on  which  we  cannot  agree,  and  give  me 
leave  to  go  on.  I  say,  since  the  young  man  has  escaped, 
Cromwell's  offensive  and  injurious  stipulation  falls  to 
the  ground;  and  I  see  not  why  my  uncle  and  his  family 
should  not  again  enter  their  own  house,  under  the  same 
terms  of  connivance  as  many  other  Royalists.  What 
may  be  incumbent  on  me  is  different,  nor  can  I  deter- 
87  225 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

mine  my  course  until  I  have  an  interview  with  the  Gen- 
eral, which,  as  I  think,  will  end  in  his  confessing  that  he 
threw  in  this  offensive  proposal  to  sound  us  both.  It  is 
much  in  his  manner;  for  he  is  blunt,  and  never  sees  or 
feels  the  punctilious  honour  which  the  gallants  of  the 
day  stretch  to  such  delicacy.' 

'  I  '11  acquit  him  of  having  any  punctilio  about  him/ 
said  Wildrake, '  either  touching  honour  or  honesty.  Now, 
to  come  back  to  where  we  started.  Supposing  you  were 
not  to  reside  in  person  at  the  lodge,  and  to  forbear  even 
visiting  there,  unless  on  invitation,  when  such  a  thing 
can  be  brought  about,  I  tell  you  frankly,  I  think  your 
uncle  and  his  daughter  might  be  induced  to  come  back 
to  the  lodge,  and  reside  there  as  usual.  At  least  the 
clergyman,  that  worthy  old  cock,  gave  me  to  hope  as 
much.' 

'He  has  been  hasty  in  bestowing  his  confidence,'  said 
Everard. 

'True,'  replied  Wildrake;  'he  confided  in  me  at  once, 
for  he  instantly  saw  my  regard  for  the  church.  I  thank 
Heaven  I  never  passed  a  clergyman  in  his  canonicals 
without  pulHng  my  hat  off;  and  thou  knowest,  the  most 
desperate  duel  I  ever  fought  was  with  young  Grayless  of 
the  Inner  Temple,  for  taking  the  wall  of  the  Rev.  Dr. 
Bunce.  Ah,  I  can  gain  a  chaplain's  ear  instantly.  Gad- 
zooks,  they  know  whom  they  have  to  trust  to  in  such  a 
one  as  I.' 

'Dost  thou  think,  then,'  said  Colonel  Everard,  'or 
rather  does  this  clergyman  think,  that,  if  they  were  se- 
cure of  intrusion  from  me,  the  family  would  return  to  the 
lodge,  supposing  the  intruding  Commissioners  gone,  and 
this  nocturnal  disturbance  explained  and  ended? ' 

226 


WOODSTOCK 

'The  old  knight,'  answered  Wildrake, '  may  be  wrought 
upon  by  the  doctor  to  return,  if  he  is  secure  against  in- 
trusion. As  for  disturbances,  the  stout  old  boy,  so  far  as 
I  can  learn  in  two  minutes'  conversation,  laughs  at  all 
this  turmoil  as  the  work  of  mere  imagination,  the  con- 
sequence of  the  remorse  of  their  own  evil  consciences, 
and  says  that  goblin  or  devil  was  never  heard  of  at 
Woodstock  until  it  became  the  residence  of  such  men 
as  they  who  have  now  usurped  the  possession.' 

'There  is  more  than  imagination  in  it,'  said  Everard. 
*  I  have  personal  reason  to  know  there  is  sorrie  conspiracy 
carrying  on,  to  render  the  house  untenable  by  the  Com- 
missioners. I  acquit  my  uncle  of  accession  to  such  a  silly 
trick;  but  I  must  see  it  ended  ere  I  can  agree  to  his  and 
my  cousin's  residing  where  such  a  confederacy  exists; 
for  they  are  Ukely  to  be  considered  as  the  contrivers  of 
such  pranks,  be  the  actual  agent  who  he  may.' 

'With  reverence  to  your  better  acquaintance  with  the 
gentleman,  Everard,  I  should  rather  suspect  the  old 
father  of  Puritans  —  I  beg  your  pardon  again  —  has 
something  to  do  with  the  business;  and  if  so,  Lucifer  will 
never  look  near  the  true  old  knight's  beard,  nor  abide  a 
glance  of  yonder  maiden's  innocent  blue  eyes.  I  will 
uphold  them  as  safe  as  pure  gold  in  a  miser's  chest.' 

'Saw'st  thou  aught  thyself,  which  makes  thee  think 
thus?' 

*  Not  a  quill  of  the  De\irs  pinion  saw  I,'  replied  Wild- 
rake. '  He  supposes  himself  too  secure  of  an  old  Cava- 
lier who  must  steal,  hang,  or  drown  in  the  long-run,  so  he 
gives  himself  no  trouble  to  look  after  the  assured  booty. 
But  I  heard  the  serving-fellows  prate  of  what  they  had 
seen  and  heard;  and  though  their  tales  were  confused 

227 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

enough,  yet  if  there  was  any  truth  among  them  at  all,  I 
should  say  the  Devil  must  have  been  in  the  dance.  But, 
holla!  here  comes  some  one  upon  us.  Stand,  friend,  who 
art  thou?' 

'A  poor  day-labourer  in  the  great  work  of  England  — 
Joseph  Tomkins  by  name  —  secretary  to  a  godly  and 
well-endowed  leader  in  this  poor  Christian  army  of 
England,  called  General  Harrison.' 

'What  news,  Master  Tomkins?'  said  Everard;  'and 
why  are  you  on  the  road  at  this  late  hour? ' 

'I  speak  to  the  worthy  Colonel  Everard,  as  I  judge?' 
said  Tomkins;  'and  truly  I  am  glad  of  meeting  your 
honour.  Heaven  knows,  I  need  such  assistance  as  yours. 
Oh,  worthy  Master  Everard,  here  has  been  a  sounding  of 
trumpets,  and  a  breaking  of  vials,  and  a  pouring  forth, 
and—!' 

'Prithee,  tell  me,  in  brief,  what  is  the  matter  —  where 
is  thy  master  —  and,  in  a  word,  what  has  happened?' 

'My  master  is  close  by,  parading  it  in  the  Httle 
meadow,  beside  the  hugeous  oak  which  is  called  by  the 
name  of  the  late  Man;  ride  but  two  steps  forward,  and 
you  may  see  him  walking  swiftly  to  and  fro,  advancing 
all  the  while  the  naked  weapon.' 

Upon  proceeding  as  directed,  but  with  as  little  noise 
as  possible,  they  descried  a  man,  whom  of  course  they 
concluded  must  be  Harrison,  walking  to  and  fro  beneath 
the  King's  Oak,  as  a  sentinel  under  arms,  but  with  more 
wildness  of  demeanour.  The  tramp  of  the  horses  did  not 
escape  his  ear;  and  they  heard  him  call  out,  as  if  at  the 
head  of  the  brigade  —  'Lower  pikes  against  cavalry; 
here  comes  Prince  Rupert.  Stand  fast,  and  you  shall 
turn  them  aside,  as  a  bull  would  toss  a  cur-dog.  Lower 

228 


WOODSTOCK 

your  pikes  still,  my  hearts,  the  end  secured  against  your 
foot  —  down  on  your  right  knee,  front  rank  —  spare  not 
for  the  spoiHng  of  your  blue  aprons.  Ha  —  Zerobabel  — 
ay,  that  is  the  word!' 

*In  the  name  of  Heaven,  about  whom  or  what  is  he 
talking?'  said  Everard;  'wherefore  does  he  go  about 
with  his  weapon  drawn? ' 

*  Truly,  sir,  when  aught  disturbs  my  master.  General 
Harrison,  he  is  something  rapt  in  the  spirit,  and  con- 
ceives that  he  is  commanding  a  reserve  of  pikes  at  the 
great  battle  of  Armageddon ;  and  for  his  weapon,  alack, 
worthy  sir,  wherefore  should  he  keep  Sheffield  steel  in 
calves'  leather,  when  there  are  fiends  to  be  combated  — 
incarnate  fiends  on  earth,  and  raging  infernal  jQends 
under  the  earth?' 

'This  is  intolerable,'  said  Everard.  'Listen  to  me, 
Tomkins.  Thou  art  not  now  in  the  pulpit,  and  I  desire 
none  of  thy  preaching  language.  I  know  thou  canst 
speak  intelligibly  when  thou  art  so  minded.  Remember, 
I  may  serve  or  harm  thee;  and  as  you  hope  or  fear  any- 
thing on  my  part,  answer  straightforward.  What  has 
happened  to  drive  out  thy  master  to  the  wild  wood  at 
this  time  of  night?' 

'  Forsooth,  worthy  and  honoured  sir,  I  will  speak  with 
the  precision  I  may.  True  it  is,  and  of  verity,  that  the 
breath  of  man,  which  is  in  his  nostrils,  goeth  forth  and 
returncth  — ' 

'Hark  you,  sir,'  said  Colonel  Everard,  'take  care 
where  you  ramble  in  your  correspondence  with  me.  You 
have  heard  how,  at  the  great  battle  of  Dunbar  in  Scot- 
land, the  General  himself  held  a  pistol  to  the  head  of 
Lieutenant  Hewcreed,  threatening  to  shoot  him  through 

229 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

the  brain  if  he  did  not  give  up  holding  forth  and  put  his 
squadron  in  Hne  to  the  front.  Take  care,  sir.' 

*  Verily,  the  lieutenant  then  charged  with  an  even  and 
unbroken  order,'  said  Tomkins,  'and  bore  a  thousand 
plaids  and  bonnets  over  the  beach  before  him  into  the 
sea.  Neither  shall  I  pretermit  or  postpone  your  honour's 
commands,  but  speedily  obey  them,  and  that  without 
delay.' 

'  Go  to,  fellow;  thou  know'st  what  I  would  have,'  said 
Everard ;  *  speak  at  once  —  I  know  thou  canst  if  thou 
wilt.  Trusty  Tomkins  is  better  known  than  he  thinks 
for.' 

'Worthy  sir,'  said  Tomkins,  in  a  much  less  periphras- 
tic style, '  I  will  obey  your  worship  as  far  as  the  spirit  will 
permit.  Truly,  it  was  not  an  hour  since,  when  my  wor- 
shipful master  being  at  table  with  Master  Bibbet  and 
myself,  not  to  mention  the  worshipful  Master  Bletson 
and  Colonel  Desborough,  and  behold  there  was  a  violent 
knocking  at  the  gate,  as  of  one  in  haste.  Now,  of  a  cer- 
tainty, so  much  had  our  household  been  harassed  with 
witches  and  spirits,  and  other  objects  of  sound  and  sight, 
that  the  sentinels  could  not  be  brought  to  abide  upon 
their  posts  without  doors,  and  it  was  only  by  provision 
of  beef  and  strong  liquors  that  we  were  able  to  maintain 
a  guard  of  three  men  in  the  hall,  who  nevertheless  ven- 
tured not  to  open  the  door,  lest  they  should  be  surprised 
with  some  of  the  gobhns  wherewith  their  imaginations 
were  overwhelmed.  And  they  heard  the  knocking, 
which  increased  until  it  seemed  that  the  door  was  well- 
nigh  about  to  be  beaten  down.  Worthy  Master  Bibbet 
was  a  Httle  overcome  with  liquor  (as  is  his  fashion,  good 
man,  about  this  time  of  the  evening),  not  that  he  is  in 

230 


WOODSTOCK 

the  least  given  to  ebriety,  but  simply,  that  since  the 
Scottish  campaign  he  hath  had  a  perpetual  ague,  which 
obUges  him  so  to  nourish  his  frame  against  the  damps  of 
the  night;  wherefore,  as  it  is  well  known  to  your  honour 
that  I  discharge  the  office  of  a  faithful  servant,  as  well  to 
Major- General  Harrison  and  the  other  Commissioners, 
as  to  my  just  and  lawful  master.  Colonel  Desborough  — ' 

*I  know  all  that.  And  now  that  thou  art  trusted  by 
both,  I  pray  to  Heaven  thou  mayst  merit  the  trust,'  said 
Colonel  Everard. 

'And  devoutly  do  I  pray,'  said  Tomkins,  'that  your 
worshipful  prayers  may  be  answered  with  favour;  for 
certainly  to  be,  and  to  be  called  and  entitled,  Honest  Joe 
and  Trusty  Tomkins  is  to  me  more  than  ever  would  be 
an  earl's  title,  were  such  things  to  be  granted  anew  in 
this  regenerated  government.' 

'Well,  go  on  —  go  on;  or  if  thou  dalliest  much  longer, 
I  will  make  bold  to  dispute  the  article  of  your  honesty. 
I  like  short  tales,  sir,  and  doubt  what  is  told  with  a  long 
unnecessary  train  of  words.' 

'Well,  good  sir,  be  not  hasty.  As  I  said  before,  the 
doors  rattled  till  you  would  have  thought  the  knocking 
was  reiterated  in  every  room  of  the  palace.  The  bell 
rung  out  for  company,  though  we  could  not  find  that 
any  one  tolled  the  clapper,  and  the  guards  let  off  their 
firelocks  merely  because  they  knew  not  what  better  to 
do.  So,  Master  Bibbet  being,  as  I  said,  unsusceptible  of 
his  duty,  I  went  down  with  my  poor  rapier  to  the  door, 
and  demanded  who  was  there ;  and  I  was  answered  in  a 
voice  which,  I  must  say,  was  much  like  another  voice, 
that  it  was  one  wanting  Major-General  Harrison.  So,  as 
it  was  then  late,  I  answered  mildly  that  General  Harri- 

231 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

son  was  betaking  himself  to  his  rest,  and  that  any  who 
wished  to  speak  to  him  must  return  on  the  morrow 
morning,  for  that,  after  nightfall,  the  door  of  the  palace, 
being  in  the  room  of  a  garrison,  would  be  opened  to  no 
one.  So  the  voice  repUed,  and  bid  me  open  directly, 
without  which  he  would  blow  the  folding-leaves  of  the 
door  into  the  middle  of  the  hall.  And  therewithal  the 
noise  recommenced,  that  we  thought  the  house  would 
have  fallen;  and  I  was  in  some  measure  constrained  to 
open  the  door,  even  like  a  besieged  garrison  which  can 
hold  out  no  longer.' 

'By  my  honour,  and  it  was  stoutly  done  of  you,  I 
must  say,'  said  Wildrake,  who  had  been  Hstening  with 
much  interest.  'I  am  a  bold  daredevil  enough,  yet 
when  I  had  two  inches  of  oak  plank  between  the  actual 
fiend  and  me,  hang  him  that  would  demolish  the  barrier 
between  us,  say  I.  I  would  as  soon,  when  aboard,  bore  a 
hole  in  the  ship  and  let  in  the  waves;  for  you  know  we 
always  compare  the  Devil  to  the  deep  sea.' 

'Prithee,  peace,  Wildrake,'  said  Everard,  'and  let  him 
go  on  with  his  history.  Well,  and  what  saw'st  thou  when 
the  door  was  opened?  The  great  Devil  with  his  horns 
and  claws,  thou  wilt  say,  no  doubt?' 

'No,  sir,  I  will  say  nothing  but  what  is  true.  When  I 
undid  the  door,  one  man  stood  there,  and  he,  to  seeming, 
a  man  of  no  extraordinary  appearance.  He  was  wrapped 
in  a  taffeta  cloak,  of  a  scarlet  colour,  and  with  a  red 
lining.  He  seemed  as  if  he  might  have  been  in  his  time  a 
very  handsome  man,  but  there  was  something  of  pale- 
ness and  sorrow  in  his  face;  a  long  love-lock  and  long 
hair  he  wore,  even  after  the  abomination  of  the  Cava- 
liers, and  the  unloveliness,  as  learned  Master  Prynne 

232 


WOODSTOCK 

well  termed  it,  of  love-locks;  a  jewel  in  his  ear;  a  blue 
scarf  over  his  shoulder,  like  a  military  commander  for 
the  King;  and  a  hat  with  a  white  plume,  bearing  a 
peculiar  hatband.' 

*  Some  unhappy  officer  of  CavaKers,  of  whom  so  many 
are  in  hiding,  and  seeking  shelter  through  the  country/ 
briefly  replied  Everard. 

'True,  worthy  sir  —  right  as  a  judicious  exposition. 
But  there  was  something  about  this  man,  if  he  was  a 
man,  whom  I,  for  one,  could  not  look  upon  without  trem- 
bling; nor  the  musketeers  who  were  in  the  hall,  without 
betraying  much  alarm,  and  swallowing,  as  they  them- 
selves will  aver,  the  very  bullets  which  they  had  in  their 
mouths  for  loading  their  carabines  and  muskets.  Nay, 
the  wolf  and  deer-dogs,  that  are  the  fiercest  of  their  kind, 
fled  from  this  visitor,  and  crept  into  holes  and  corners, 
moaning  and  wailing  in  a  low  and  broken  tone.  He 
came  into  the  middle  of  the  hall,  and  still  he  seemed  no 
more  than  an  ordinary  man,  only  somewhat  fantastic- 
ally dressed,  in  a  doublet  of  black  velvet  pinked  upon 
scarlet  satin  under  his  cloak,  a  jewel  in  his  ear,  with 
large  roses  in  his  shoes,  and  a  kerchief  in  his  hand,  which 
he  sometimes  pressed  against  his  left  side.' 

*  Gracious  Heaven ! '  said  Wildrake,  coming  close  up  to 
Everard,  and  whispering  in  his  ear,  with  accents  which 
terror  rendered  tremulous  (a  mood  of  mind  most  un- 
usual to  the  daring  man  who  seemed  now  overcome  by 
it),  'it  must  have  been  poor  Dick  Robison  the  player,  in 
the  very  dress  in  which  I  have  seen  him  play  Philaster  — 
ay,  and  drunk  a  jolly  bottle  with  him  after  it  at  the  Mer- 
maid! I  remember  how  many  frolics  we  had  together, 
and  all  his  Uttle  fantastic  fashions.  He  served  for  his  old 

233 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

master,  Charles,  in  Mohun's  troop,  and  was  murdered 
by  this  butcher's  dog,  as  I  have  heard,  after  surrender, 
at  the  battle  of  Naseby  field.' 

'Hush!  I  have  heard  of  the  deed,'  said  Everard;  'for 
God's  sake  hear  the  man  to  an  end.  Did  this  visitor 
speak  to  thee,  my  friend? ' 

'Yes,  sir,  in  a  pleasing  tone  of  voice,  but  somewhat 
fanciful  in  the  articulation,  and  like  one  who  is  speaking 
to  an  audience  as  from  a  bar  or  a  pulpit,  more  than  in 
the  voice  of  ordinary  men  on  ordinary  matters.  He 
desired  to  see  Major-General  Harrison.' 

'He  did!  and  you,'  said  Everard,  infected  by  the  spirit 
of  the  time,  which,  as  is  well  known,  leaned  to  credulity 
upon  all  matters  of  supernatural  agency  —  '  what  did 
you  do?' 

'I  went  up  to  the  parlour  and  related  that  such  a  per- 
son inquired  for  him.  He  started  when  I  told  him,  and 
eagerly  desired  to  know  the  man's  dress;  but  no  sooner 
did  I  mention  his  dress,  and  the  jewel  in  his  ear,  than  he 
said,  "  Begone !  tell  him  I  will  not  admit  him  to  speech  of 
me.  Say  that  I  defy  him,  and  will  make  my  defiance 
good  at  the  great  battle  in  the  valley  of  Armageddon, 
when  the  voice  of  the  angel  shall  call  all  fowls  which  fly 
under  the  face  of  heaven  to  feed  on  the  flesh  of  the  cap- 
tain and  the  soldier,  the  war-horse  and  his  rider.  Say  to 
the  Evil  One,  I  have  power  to  appeal  our  conflict  even 
till  that  day,  and  that  in  the  front  of  that  fearful  day  he 
will  again  meet  with  Harrison."  I  went  back  with  this 
answer  to  the  stranger,  and  his  face  was  writhed  into 
such  a  deadly  frown  as  a  mere  human  brow  hath  seldom 
worn.  "Return  to  him,"  he  said,  "  and  say  it  is  my  hour  ; 
and  that  if  he  come  not  instantly  down  to  speak  with  me, 

234 


WOODSTOCK 

I  will  mount  the  stairs  to  him.  Say  that  I  command  him 
to  descend,  by  the  token,  that  on  the  field  of  Naseby, 
he  did  not  the  work  negligently.'" 

'  I  have  heard,'  whispered  Wildrake,  who  felt  more  and 
more  strongly  the  contagion  of  superstition,  *  that  these 
words  were  blasphemously  used  by  Harrison  when  he 
shot  my  poor  friend  Dick.' 

'  What  happened  next? '  said  Everard.  *  See  that  thou 
speakest  the  truth ! ' 

'As  gospel  unexpounded  by  a  steeple-man,'  said  the 
Independent;  'yet  truly  it  is  but  httle  I  have  to  say.  I 
saw  my  master  come  down,  with  a  blank  yet  resolved 
air;  and  when  he  entered  the  hall  and  saw  the  stranger, 
he  made  a  pause.  The  other  waved  him  on  as  if  to  fol- 
low, and  walked  out  at  the  portal.  My  worthy  patron 
seemed  as  if  he  were  about  to  follow,  yet  again  paused, 
when  this  visitant,  be  he  man  or  fiend,  reentered  and 
said,  "  Obey  thy  doom. 

"By  pathless  march,  by  greenwood  tree, 
It  is  thy  weird  to  follow  me  — 
To  follow  me  through  the  ghastly  moonlight  — 
To  follow  me  through  the  shadows  of  night  — 
To  follow  me,  comrade,  still  art  thou  bound. 
I  conjure  thee  by  the  unstanched  wound  — 
I  conjure  thee  by  the  last  words  I  spoke, 
When  the  body  slept  and  the  spirit  awoke, 
In  the  very  last  pangs  of  the  deadly  stroke!" 

So  saying,  he  stalked  out,  and  my  master  followed  him 
into  the  wood.  I  followed  also  at  a  distance.  But  when  I 
came  up,  my  master  was  alone,  and  bearing  himself  as 
you  now  behold  him.' 

'Thou  hast  had  a  wonderful  memory,  friend,'  said  the 
colonel,  coldly,  'to  remember  these  rh}Tnes  in  a  single 

235 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

recitation:  there  seems  something  of  practice  in  all 
this.' 

*A  single  recitation,  my  honoured  sir!'  exclaimed  the 
Independent.  'Alack,  the  rhyme  is  seldom  out  of  my 
poor  master's  mouth,  when,  as  sometimes  haps,  he  is  less 
triumphant  in  his  wrestles  with  Satan.  But  it  was  the 
first  time  I  ever  heard  it  uttered  by  another;  and,  to  say 
truth,  he  ever  seems  to  repeat  it  unwillingly,  as  a  child 
after  his  pedagogue,  and  as  it  was  not  indited  by  his  own 
head,  as  the  Psalmist  saith.' 

*It  is  singular,'  said  Everard.  'I  have  heard  and  read 
that  the  spirits  of  the  slaughtered  have  strange  power 
over  the  slayer;  but  I  am  astonished  to  have  it  insisted 
upon  that  there  may  be  truth  in  such  tales.  Roger  Wild- 
rake  —  what  art  thou  afraid  of,  man?  why  dost  thou 
shift  thy  place  thus? ' 

'  Fear !  it  is  not  fear  —  it  is  hate,  deadly  hate.  I  see  the 
murderer  of  poor  Dick  before  me,  and  —  see,  he  throws 
himself  into  a  posture  of  fence.  Sa — sa — sayst  thou, 
brood  of  a  butcher's  mastiff?  thou  shalt  not  want  an 
antagonist.' 

Ere  any  one  could  stop  him,  Wildrake  threw  aside  his 
cloak,  drew  his  sword,  and  almost  with  a  single  bound 
cleared  the  distance  betwixt  him  and  Harrison,  and 
crossed  swords  with  the  latter,  as  he  stood  brandishing 
his  weapon,  as  if  in  immediate  expectation  of  an  assail- 
ant. Accordingly,  the  republican  general  was  not  for  an 
instant  taken  at  unawares,  but  the  moment  the  swords 
clashed,  he  shouted,  'Ha!  I  feel  thee  now,  thou  hast 
come  in  body  at  last.  Welcome  —  welcome !  The  sword 
of  the  Lord  and  of  Gideon ! ' 

'Part  them  —  part  them,'  cried  Everard,  as  he  and 
236 


WOODSTOCK 

Tomkins,  at  first  astonished  at  the  suddenness  of  the 
affray,  hastened  to  interfere.  Everard,  seizing  on  the 
Cavalier,  drew  him  forcibly  backwards,  and  Tomkins 
contrived,  with  risk  and  difficulty,  to  master  Harrison's 
sword,  while  the  general  exclaimed,  *Ha!  two  to  one  — 
two  to  one!  thus  fight  demons.' 

Wildrake,  on  his  side,  swore  a  dreadful  oath,  and 
added:  'Markham,  you  have  cancelled  every  obligation 
I  owed  you :  they  are  all  out  of  sight  —  gone,  d — n  me ! ' 

'You  have  indeed  acquitted  these  obligations  rarely,' 
said  Everard.  'Who  knows  how  this  affair  shall  be 
explained  and  answered? ' 

*I  will  answer  it  with  my  life,'  said  Wildrake. 

*  Good  now,  be  silent,'  said  Tomkins,  *  and  let  me  man- 
age. It  shall  be  so  ordered  that  the  good  general  shall 
never  know  that  he  hath  encountered  with  a  mortal  man ; 
only  let  that  man  of  Moab  put  his  sword  into  the  scab- 
bard's rest  and  be  still.' 

'Wildrake,  let  me  entreat  thee  to  sheathe  thy  sword,' 
said  Everard, '  else,  on  my  life,  thou  must  turn  it  against 
me.' 

'No,  'fore  George,  not  so  mad  as  that  neither;  but  I '11 
have  another  day  with  him.' 

'Thou,  another  day!'  exclaimed  Harrison,  whose  eye 
had  still  remained  fixed  on  the  spot  where  he  found  such 
palpable  resistance.  'Yes,  I  know  thee  well;  day  by  day, 
week  by  week,  thou  makest  the  same  idle  request,  for 
thou  know'st  that  my  heart  quivers  at  thy  voice.  But 
my  hand  trembles  not  when  opposed  to  thine:  the  spirit 
is  willing  to  the  combat,  if  the  flesh  be  weak  when  op- 
posed to  that  which  is  not  of  the  flesh.' 

'Now,  peace  all,  for  Heaven's  sake,'  said  the  steward 

237 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Tomkins;  then  added,  addressing  his  master,  'There  is 
no  one  here,  if  it  please  your  Excellency,  but  Tomkins 
and  the  worthy  Colonel  Everard,' 

General  Harrison,  as  sometimes  happens  in  cases  of 
partial  insanity  (that  is,  supposing  his  to  have  been  a 
case  of  mental  delusion),  though  firmly  and  entirely 
persuaded  of  the  truth  of  his  own  visions,  yet  was  not 
willing  to  speak  on  the  subject  to  those  who,  he  knew, 
would  regard  them  as  imaginary.  Upon  this  occasion, 
he  assumed  the  appearance  of  perfect  ease  and  compos- 
ure, after  the  violent  agitation  he  had  just  manifested, 
in  a  manner  which  showed  how  anxious  he  was  to  dis- 
guise his  real  feelings  from  Everard,  whom  he  considered 
as  unlikely  to  participate  them. 

He  saluted  the  colonel  with  profound  ceremony,  and 
talked  of  the  fineness  of  the  evening,  which  had  sum- 
moned him  forth  of  the  lodge,  to  take  a  turn  in  the  park 
and  enjoy  the  favourable  weather.  He  then  took  Ever- 
ard by  the  arm,  and  walked  back  with  him  towards  the 
lodge,  Wildrake  and  Tomkins  following  close  behind  and 
leading  the  horses.  Everard,  desirous  to  gain  some  hght 
on  these  mysterious  incidents,  endeavoured  to  come  on 
the  subject  more  than  once,  by  a  mode  of  interrogation 
which  Harrison  (for  madmen  are  very  often  unwilling 
to  enter  on  the  subject  of  their  mental  delusion)  parried 
with  some  skill,  or  addressed  himself  for  aid  to  his  stew- 
ard Tomkins,  who  was  in  the  habit  of  being  voucher  for 
his  master  upon  all  occasions,  which  led  to  Desborough's 
ingenious  nickname  of  Fibbet. 

'And  wherefore  had  you  your  sword  drawn,  my  wor- 
thy general,'  said  Everard,  'when  you  were  only  on  an 
evening  walk  of  pleasure? ' 

238 


WOODSTOCK 

'Truly,  excellent  colonel,  these  are  times  when  men 
must  watch  with  their  loins  girded,  and  their  lights 
burning,  and  their  weapons  drawn.  The  day  draweth 
nigh,  believe  me  or  not  as  you  will,  that  men  must  watch 
lest  they  be  found  naked  and  unarmed,  when  the  seven 
trumpets  shall  sound,  "Boot  and  saddle";  and  the  pipes 
of  Jezer  shall  strike  up,  "Horse  and  away.'" 

*  True,  good  general ;  but  methought  I  saw  you  making 
passes  even  now  as  if  you  were  fighting? '  said  Everard. 

*I  am  of  a  strange  fantasy,  friend  Everard,'  answered 
Harrison;  'and  when  I  walk  alone,  and  happen,  as  but 
now,  to  have  my  weapon  drawn,  I  sometimes,  for  exer- 
cise' sake,  will  practise  a  thrust  against  such  a  tree  as 
that.  It  is  a  silly  pride  men  have  in  the  use  of  weapons. 
I  have  been  accounted  a  master  of  fence,  and  have 
fought  prizes  when  I  was  unregenerated,  and  before  I 
was  called  to  do  my  part  in  the  great  work,  entering  as 
a  trooper  into  our  victorious  general's  first  regiment  of 
horse.' 

'But  methought,'  said  Everard,  *I  heard  a  weapon 
clash  with  yours? ' 

'How!  a  weapon  clash  with  my  sword?  How  could 
that  be,  Tomkins? ' 

'Truly,  sir,'  said  Tomkins,  'it  must  have  been  a  bough 
of  the  tree;  they  have  them  of  all  kinds  here,  and  your 
honour  may  have  pushed  against  one  of  them  which  the 
Brazilians  call  iron-wood,  a  block  of  which,  being  struck 
with  a  hammer,  saith  Purchas  in  his  "Pilgrimage," 
ringeth  like  an  anvil.' 

'Truly,  it  may  be  so,'  said  Harrison;  'for  those  rulers 
who  are  gone  assembled  in  this  their  abode  of  pleasure 
many  strange  trees  and  plants,  though  they  gathered 

239 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

not  of  the  fruit  of  that  tree  which  beareth  twelve  manner 
of  fruits,  or  of  those  leaves  which  are  for  the  heaUng  of 
nations.' 

Everard  pursued  his  investigation;  for  he  was  struck 
with  the  manner  in  which  Harrison  evaded  his  ques- 
tions, and  the  dexterity  with  which  he  threw  his  trans- 
cendental and  fanatical  notions,  like  a  sort  of  veil,  over 
the  darker  visions  excited  by  remorse  and  conscious 
guilt. 

*But,'  said  he,  'if  I  may  trust  my  eyes  and  ears,  I 
cannot  but  still  think  that  you  had  a  real  antagonist. 
Nay,  I  am  sure  I  saw  a  fellow,  in  a  dark-coloured  jerkin, 
retreat  through  the  wood.' 

'Did  you?'  said  Harrison,  with  a  tone  of  surprise, 
while  his  voice  faltered  in  spite  of  him.  'Who  could  he 
be?  Tomkins,  did  you  see  the  fellow  Colonel  Everard 
talks  of  with  the  napkin  in  his  hand  —  the  bloody  napkin 
which  he  always  pressed  to  his  side? ' 

This  last  expression,  in  which  Harrison  gave  a  mark 
different  from  that  which  Everard  had  assigned,  but 
corresponding  to  Tomkins's  original  description  of  the 
supposed  spectre,  had  more  effect  on  Everard  in  con- 
firming the  steward's  story  than  anything  he  had  wit- 
nessed or  heard.  The  voucher  answered  the  draft  upon 
him  as  promptly  as  usual,  that  he  had  seen  such  a  fellow 
glide  past  them  into  the  thicket;  that  he  dared  to  say 
he  was  some  deer-stealer,  for  he  had  heard  they  were 
become  very  audacious. 

•  'Look  ye  there  now,  Master  Everard,'  said  Harrison, 
hurrying  from  the  subject.  '  Is  it  not  time  now  that  we 
should  lay  aside  our  controversies,  and  join  hand  in  hand 
to  repairing  the  breaches  of  our  Zion?  Happy  and  con- 

240 


WOODSTOCK 

tented  were  I,  my  excellent  friend,  to  be  a  treader  of 
mortar,  or  a  bearer  of  a  hod,  upon  this  occasion,  under 
our  great  leader,  with  whom  Providence  has  gone  forth 
in  this  great  national  controversy;  and  truly,  so  devoutly 
do  I  hold  by  our  excellent  and  victorious  General  Oliver 
—  whom  Heaven  long  preserve !  —  that  were  he  to 
command  me,  I  should  not  scruple  to  pluck  forth  of  his 
high  place  the  man  whom  they  call  Speaker,  even  as  I 
lent  a  poor  hand  to  pluck  down  the  man  whom  they 
called  King.  Wherefore,  as  I  know  your  judgment 
holdeth  with  mine  on  this  matter,  let  me  urge  unto  you 
lovingly,  that  we  may  act  as  brethren,  and  build  up  the 
breaches  and  reestablish  the  bulwarks  of  our  English 
Zion,  whereby  we  shall  be  doubtless  chosen  as  pillars  and 
buttresses,  under  our  excellent  Lord  General,  for  sup- 
porting and  sustaining  the  same,  and  endowed  with 
proper  revenues  and  incomes,  both  spiritual  and  temp- 
oral, to  serve  as  a  pedestal  on  which  we  may  stand, 
seeing  that  otherwise  our  foundation  will  be  on  the  loose 
sand.  Nevertheless,'  continued  he,  his  mind  again  di- 
verging from  his  views  of  temporal  ambition  into  his 
visions  of  the  Fifth  Monarchy,  Hhese  things  are  but 
vanity  in  respect  of  the  opening  of  the  book  which  is 
sealed;  for  all  things  approach  speedily  towards  light- 
ning and  thundering,  and  unloosing  of  the  great  dragon 
from  the  bottomless  pit,  wherein  he  is  chained.' 

With  this  mingled  strain  of  earthly  politics  and  fana- 
tical prediction,  Harrison  so  overpowered  Colonel 
Everard  as  to  leave  him  no  time  to  urge  him  further  on 
the  particular  circumstances  of  his  nocturnal  skirmish, 
concerning  which  it  is  plain  he  had  no  desire  to  be  in- 
terrogated. They  now  reached  the  lodge  of  Woodstock. 

87 


CHAPTER  XV 

Now  the  wasted  brands  do  glow, 

Whilst  the  screech-owl,  screeching  loud, 
Puts  the  wretch  that  lies  in  woe, 

In  remembrance  of  a  shroud. 
Now  it  is  the  time  of  night 

That  the  graves,  all  gaping  wide, 
Every  one  lets  forth  his  sprite. 

In  the  church-way  paths  to  glide. 

Midsummer  Night's  Dream. 

Before  the  gate  of  the  palace  the  guards  were  now 
doubled.  Everard  demanded  the  reason  of  this  from  the 
corporal,  whom  he  found  in  the  hall  with  his  soldiers, 
sitting  or  sleeping  around  a  great  fire,  maintained  at  the 
expense  of  the  carved  chairs  and  benches,  with  frag- 
ments of  which  it  was  furnished. 

'Why,  verily,'  answered  the  man,  'the  corps  de  garde, 
as  your  worship  says,  will  be  harassed  to  pieces  by  such 
duty;  nevertheless,  fear  hath  gone  abroad  among  us, 
and  no  man  will  mount  guard  alone.  We  have  drawn 
in,  however,  one  or  two  of  our  outposts  from  Banbury 
and  elsewhere,  and  we  are  to  have  a  relief  from  Oxford 
to-morrow.' 

Everard  continued  minute  inquiries  concerning  the 
sentinels  that  were  posted  within  as  well  as  without  the 
lodge;  and  found  that,  as  they  had  been  stationed  under 
the  eye  of  Harrison  himself,  the  rules  of  prudent  dis- 
cipline had  been  exactly  observed  in  the  distribution 
of  the  posts.  There  remained  nothing,  therefore,  for 
Colonel  Everard  to  do  but,  remembering  his  own  ad- 
venture of  the  evening,  to  recommend  that  an  additional 

242 


WOODSTOCK 

sentinel  should  be  placed,  with  a  companion,  if  judged 
indispensable,  in  that  vestibule,  or  ante-room,  from 
which  the  long  gallery  where  he  had  met  with  the  ren- 
contre and  other  suites  of  apartments  diverged.  The 
corporal  respectfully  promised  all  obedience  to  his  or- 
ders. The  serving-men,  being  called,  appeared  also  in 
double  force.  Everard  demanded  to  know  whether  the 
Commissioners  had  gone  to  bed,  or  whether  he  could 
get  speech  with  them. 

'They  are  in  their  bedroom,  forsooth,'  rephed  one  of 
the  fellows;  'but  I  think  they  be  not  yet  undressed.' 

'What!'  said  Everard,  'are  Colonel  Desborough  and 
Master  Bletson  both  in  the  same  sleeping-apartment?' 

'Their  honours  have  so  chosen  it,'  said  the  man;  'and 
their  honours'  secretaries  remain  upon  guard  all  night.' 

'It  is  the  fashion  to  double  guards  all  over  the  house,' 
said  Wildrake.  'Had  I  a  ghmpse  of  a  tolerably  good- 
looking  housemaid  now,  I  should  know  how  to  fall  into 
the  fashion.' 

'Peace,  fool!'  said  Everard.  'And  where  are  the 
Mayor  and  Master  Holdenough? ' 

*  The  Mayor  is  returned  to  the  borough  on  horseback, 
behind  the  trooper  who  goes  to  Oxford  for  the  reinforce- 
ment; and  the  man  of  the  steeple-house  hath  quartered 
himself  in  the  chamber  which  Colonel  Desborough  had 
last  night,  being  that  in  which  he  is  most  Hkely  to  meet 
the  —  your  honour  understands.  The  Lord  pity  us,  we 
are  a  harassed  family.' 

'And  where  be  General  Harrison's  knaves,'  said  Tom- 
kins,  '  that  they  do  not  marshal  him  to  his  apartment? ' 

'Here  —  here  —  here,  Master  Tomkins,'  said  three 
fellows,  pressing  forward,  with  the  same  consternation 

243- 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

on  their  faces  which  seemed  to  pervade  the  whole  in- 
habitants of  Woodstock. 

'Away  with  you,  then,'  said  Tomkins.  'Speak  not  to 
his  worship;  you  see  he  is  not  in  the  humour.' 

'Indeed,'  observed  Colonel  Everard,  'he  looks  singu- 
larly wan;  his  features  seem  writhen  as  by  a  palsy 
stroke;  and  though  he  was  talking  so  fast  while  we  came 
along,  he  hath  not  opened  his  mouth  since  we  came  to 
the  light.' 

'  It  is  his  manner  after  such  visitations,'  said  Tomkins. 
*  Give  his  honour  your  arms,  Zedekiah  and  Jonathan,  to 
lead  him  off.  I  will  follow  instantly.  You,  Nicodemus, 
tarry  to  wait  upon  me:  it  is  not  well  walking  alone  in 
this  mansion.' 

'Master  Tomkins,'  said  Everard,  'I  have  heard  of  you 
often  as  a  sharp,  intelligent  man;  tell  me  fairly,  are  you 
in  earnest  afraid  of  anything  supernatural  haunting  this 
house? ' 

'I  would  be  loth  to  run  the  chance,  sir,'  said  Tomkins, 
very  gravely ; '  by  looking  on  my  worshipful  master,  you 
may  form  a  guess  how  the  Hving  look  after  they  have 
spoken  with  the  dead.'  He  bowed  low,  and  took  his 
leave. 

Everard  proceeded  to  the  chamber  which  the  two  re- 
maining Commissioners  had,  for  comfort's  sake,  chosen 
to  inhabit  in  company.  They  were  preparing  for  bed  as 
he  went  into  their  apartment.  Both  started  as  the  door 
opened;  both  rejoiced  when  they  saw  it  was  only 
Everard  who  entered. 

'Hark  ye  hither,'  said  Bletson,  pulling  him  aside, 
'saw'st  thou  ever  ass  equal  to  Desborough?  The  fellow 
is  as  big  as  an  ox  and  as  timorous  as  a  sheep:  he  has 

244 


WOODSTOCK 

insisted  on  my  sleeping  here  to  protect  him.  Shall  we 
have  a  merry  night  on't,  ha?  We  will,  if  thou  wilt  take 
the  third  bed,  which  was  prepared  for  Harrison;  but  he 
is  gone  out,  like  a  moon-calf,  to  look  for  the  valley  of 
Armageddon  in  the  park  of  Woodstock.' 

'General  Harrison  has  returned  with  me  but  now,' 
said  Everard. 

*  Nay  but,  as  I  shall  live,  he  comes  not  into  our  apart- 
ment,' said  Desborough,  overhearing  his  answer.  *No 
man  that  has  been  supping,  for  aught  I  know,  with  the 
Devil  has  a  right  to  sleep  among  Christian  folk.' 

'He  does  not  propose  so,'  said  Everard:  *he  sleeps,  as  I 
understand,  apart  —  and  alone.' 

'Not  quite  alone,  I  dare  say,'  said  Desborough,  'for 
Harrison  hath  a  sort  of  attraction  for  goblins:  they  fly 
round  him  Hke  moths  about  a  candle.  But,  I  prithee, 
good  Everard,  do  thou  stay  with  us.  I  know  not  how  it 
is,  but  although  thou  hast  not  thy  rehgion  always  in  thy 
mouth,  nor  speakest  many  hard  words  about  it,  Hke 
Harrison,  nor  makest  long  preachments,  like  a  certain 
most  honourable  relation  of  mine  who  shall  be  nameless, 
yet  somehow  I  feel  myself  safer  in  thy  company  than 
with  any  of  them.  As  for  this  Bletson,  he  is  such  a  mere 
blasphemer,  that  I  fear  the  Devil  will  carry  him  away 
ere  morning.' 

'Did  you  ever  hear  such  a  paltry  coward?'  said  Blet- 
son apart  to  Everard.  'Do  tarry,  however,  mine  hon- 
oured colonel.  I  know  your  zeal  to  assist  the  distressed, 
and  you  see  Desborough  is  in  that  predicament,  that  he 
will  require  near  him  more  than  one  good  example  to 
prevent  him  thinking  of  ghosts  and  fiends.' 

'I  am  sorry  I  cannot  oblige  you,  gentlemen,'  said 

245 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Everard;  'but  I  have  settled  my  mind  to  sleep  in  Victor 
Lee's  apartment,  so  I  wish  you  good-night;  and,  if  you 
would  repose  without  disturbance,  I  would  advise  that 
you  commend  yourselves,  during  the  watches  of  the 
night,  to  Him  unto  whom  night  is  even  as  midday.  I 
had  intended  to  have  spoke  with  you  this  evening  on  the 
subject  of  my  being  here;  but  I  will  defer  the  conference 
till  to-morrow,  when,  I  think,  I  will  be  able  to  show  you 
excellent  reasons  for  leaving  Woodstock.' 

*  We  have  seen  plenty  such  already,'  said  Desborough. 
'For  one,  I  came  here  to  serve  the  estate,  with  some 
moderate  advantage  doubtless  to  myself  for  my  trouble; 
but  if  I  am  set  upon  my  head  again  to-night,  as  I  was 
the  night  before,  I  would  not  stay  longer  to  gain  a  king's 
crown,  for  I  am  sure  my  neck  would  be  unfitted  to  bear 
the  weight  of  it.' 

'Good-night,'  exclaimed  Everard,  and  was  about  to 
go,  when  Bletson  again  pressed  close,  and  whispered  to 
him,  'Hark  thee,  colonel,  you  know  my  friendship  for 
thee  —  I  do  implore  thee  to  leave  the  door  of  thy  apart- 
ment open,  that,  if  thou  meetest  with  any  disturbance, 
I  may  hear  thee  call,  and  be  with  thee  upon  the  very 
instant.  Do  this,  dear  Everard  —  my  fears  for  thee  will 
keep  me  awake  else;  for  I  know  that,  notwithstanding 
your  excellent  sense,  you  entertain  some  of  those  super- 
stitious ideas  which  we  suck  in  with  our  mother's  milk, 
and  which  constitute  the  ground  of  our  fears  in  situa- 
tions like  the  present;  therefore,  leave  thy  door  open,  if 
you  love  me,  that  you  may  have  ready  assistance  from 
me  in  case  of  need.' 

'My  master,'  said  Wildrake,  'trusts,  first,  in  his  Bible, 
sir,  and  then  in  his  good  sword.  He  has  no  idea  that  the 

246 


WOODSTOCK 

Devil  can  be  baffled  by  the  charm  of  two  men  lying  in 
one  room,  still  less  that  the  Foul  Fiend  can  be  argued 
out  of  existence  by  the  nullifidians  of  the  Rota.' 

Everard  seized  his  imprudent  friend  by  the  collar,  and 
dragged  him  off  as  he  was  speaking,  keeping  fast  hold  of 
him  till  they  were  both  in  the  chamber  of  Victor  Lee, 
where  they  had  slept  on  a  former  occasion.  Even  then 
he  continued  to  hold  Wildrake,  until  the  servant  had 
arranged  the  lights  and  was  dismissed  from  the  room; 
then  letting  him  go,  addressed  him  with  the  upbraiding 
question,  'Art  thou  not  a  prudent  and  sagacious  person, 
who  in  times  like  these  seek'st  every  opportunity  to 
argue  yourself  into  a  broil,  or  embroil  yourself  in  an 
argument?  Out  on  you!' 

'Ay,  out  on  me,  indeed,'  said  the  Cavalier  —  'out  on 
me  for  a  poor  tame-spirited  creature,  that  submits  to  be 
bandied  about  in  this  manner  by  a  man  who  is  neither 
better  born  nor  better  bred  than  myself.  I  tell  thee, 
Mark,  you  make  an  unfair  use  of  your  advantages  over 
me.  Why  will  you  not  let  me  go  from  you,  and  live  and 
die  after  my  own  fashion? ' 

'Because,  before  we  had  been  a  week  separate,  I 
should  hear  of  your  dying  after  the  fashion  of  a  dog. 
Come,  my  good  friend,  what  madness  was  it  in  thee  to 
fall  foul  on  Harrison,  and  then  to  enter  into  useless 
argument  with  Bletson?' 

'Why,  we  are  in  the  Devil's  house,  I  think,  and  I 
would  willingly  give  the  landlord  his  due  wherever  I 
travel.  To  have  sent  him  Harrison,  or  Bletson  now,  just 
as  a  lunch  to  stop  his  appetite,  till  Crom  — ' 

'Hush!  stone  walls  have  ears,'  said  Everard,  looking 
around  him.  'Here  stands  thy  night-drink.  Look  to  thy 

247 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

arms,  for  we  must  be  as  careful  as  if  the  Avenger  of 
Blood  were  behind  us.  Yonder  is  thy  bed;  and  I,  as 
thou  seest,  have  one  prepared  in  the  parlour.  The  door 
only  divides  us.' 

'Which  I  will  leave  open,  in  case  thou  shouldst 
holla  for  assistance,  as  yonder  nulHfidian  hath  it.  But 
how  hast  thou  got  all  this  so  well  put  in  order,  good 
patron?' 

'  I  gave  the  steward  Tomkins  notice  of  my  purpose  to 
sleep  here.' 

'A  strange  fellow  that,'  said  Wildrake,  'and,  as  I 
judge,  has  taken  measure  of  every  one's  foot :  all  seems 
to  pass  through  his  hands.' 

'He  is,  I  have  understood,'  replied  Everard,  'one  of 
the  men  formed  by  the  times  —  has  a  ready  gift  of 
preaching  and  expounding,  which  keeps  him  in  high 
terms  with  the  Independents,  and  recommends  liimself 
to  the  more  moderate  people  by  his  intelligence  and 
activity.' 

'Has  his  sincerity  ever  been  doubted?'  said  Wildrake. 

'Never  that  I  heard  of,'  said  the  colonel;  'on  the  con- 
trary, he  has  been  familiarly  called  Honest  Joe  and 
Trusty  Tomkins.  For  my  part,  I  believe  his  sincerity 
has  always  kept  pace  with  his  interest.  But  come, 
finish  thy  cup,  and  to  bed.  What,  all  emptied  at  one 
draught? ' 

'Adzookers,  yes  —  my  vow  forbids  me  to  make  two 
on't;  but,  never  fear,  the  nightcap  will  only  warm  my 
brain,  not  clog  it.  So,  man  or  devil,  give  me  notice  if  you 
are  disturbed,  and  rely  on  me  in  a  twinkling.'  So  saying, 
the  Cavalier  retreated  into  his  separate  apartment ;  and 
Colonel  Everard,  taking  off  the  most  cumbrous  part  of 

248 


WOODSTOCK 

his  dress,  lay  down  in  his  hose  and  doublet,  and  com- 
posed himself  to  rest. 

He  was  awakened  from  sleep  by  a  slow  and  solemn 
strain  of  music,  which  died  away  as  at  a  distance.  He 
started  up,  and  felt  for  his  arms,  which  he  found  close 
beside  him.  His  temporary  bed  being  without  curtains, 
he  could  look  around  him  without  difficulty;  but  as  there 
remained  in  the  chimney  only  a  few  red  embers  of  the 
fire,  which  he  had  arranged  before  he  went  to  sleep, 
it  was  impossible  he  could  discern  anything.  He  felt, 
therefore,  in  spite  of  his  natural  courage,  that  undefined 
and  thrilling  species  of  tremor  which  attends  a  sense  that 
danger  is  near,  and  an  uncertainty  concerning  its  cause 
and  character.  Reluctant  as  he  was  to  yield  belief  to 
supernatural  occurrences,  we  have  already  said  he  was 
not  absolutely  incredulous;  as  perhaps,  even  in  this  more 
sceptical  age,  there  are  many  fewer  complete  and  abso- 
lute infidels  on  this  particular  than  give  themselves  out 
for  such.  Uncertain  whether  he  had  not  dreamed  of 
these  sounds  which  seemed  yet  in  his  ears,  he  was  un- 
willing to  risk  the  raillery  of  his  friend  by  summoning 
him  to  his  assistance.  He  sat  up,  therefore,  in  his  bed, 
not  without  experiencing  that  nervous  agitation  to  which 
brave  men  as  well  as  cowards  are  subject;  with  this  dif- 
ference, that  the  one  sinks  under  it  like  the  vine  under  the 
hail-storm,  and  the  other  collects  his  energies  to  shake  it 
ofif,  as  the  cedar  of  Lebanon  is  said  to  elevate  its  boughs 
to  disperse  the  snow  which  accumulates  upon  them. 

The  story  of  Harrison,  in  his  own  absolute  despite, 
and  notwithstanding  a  secret  suspicion  which  he  had  of 
trick  or  connivance,  returned  on  his  mind  at  this  dead 
and  solitary  hour.    Harrison,  he  remembered,  had  de- 

249 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

scribed  the  vision  by  a  circumstance  of  its  appearance 
different  from  that  which  his  own  remark  had  been  cal- 
culated to  suggest  to  the  mind  of  the  visionary:  that 
bloody  napkin,  always  pressed  to  the  side,  was  then  a 
circumstance  present  either  to  his  bodily  eye  or  to  that 
of  his  agitated  imagination.  Did,  then,  the  murdered 
revisit  the  living  haunts  of  those  who  had  forced  them 
from  the  stage  with  all  their  sins  unaccounted  for?  And 
if  they  did,  might  not  the  same  permission  authorise 
other  visitations  of  a  similar  nature  —  to  warn,  to  in- 
struct, to  punish?  'Rash  are  they,'  was  his  conclusion, 
'and  credulous,  who  receive  as  truth  every  tale  of  the 
kind;  but  no  less  rash  may  it  be  to  hmit  the  power  of  the 
Creator  over  the  works  which  He  has  made,  and  to 
suppose  that,  by  the  permission  of  the  Author  of  Nature, 
the  laws  of  nature  may  not,  in  peculiar  cases  and  for 
high  purposes,  be  temporarily  suspended.' 

While  these  thoughts  passed  through  Everard's  mind, 
feelings  unknown  to  him,  even  when  he  stood  first  on  the 
rough  and  perilous  edge  of  battle,  gained  ground  upon 
him.  He  feared  he  knew  not  what;  and  where  an  open 
and  discernible  peril  would  have  drawn  out  his  courage, 
the  absolute  uncertainty  of  his  situation  increased  his 
sense  of  the  danger.  He  felt  an  almost  irresistible  desire 
to  spring  from  his  bed  and  heap  fuel  on  the  dying  em- 
bers, expecting  by  the  blaze  to  see  some  strange  sight  in 
his  chamber.  He  was  also  strongly  tempted  to  awaken 
Wildrake;  but  shame,  stronger  than  fear  itself,  checked 
these  impulses.  What!  should  it  be  thought  that  Mark- 
ham  Everard,  held  one  of  the  best  soldiers  who  had 
drawn  a  sword  in  this  sad  war  —  Markham  Everard, 
who  had  obtained  such  distinguished  rank  in  the  army 

250 


WOODSTOCK 

of  the  Parliament,  though  so  young  in  years,  was  afraid 
of  remaining  by  himself  in  a  twilight-room  at  midnight? 
It  never  should  be  said. 

This  was,  however,  no  charm  for  his  unpleasant  cur- 
rent of  thought.  There  rushed  on  his  mind  the  various 
traditions  of  Victor  Lee's  chamber,  which,  though  he  had 
often  despised  them  as  vague,  unauthenticated,  and  in- 
consistent rumours,  engendered  by  ancient  superstition, 
and  transmitted  from  generation  to  generation  by  lo- 
quacious credulity,  had  yet  something  in  them  which 
did  not  tend  to  allay  the  present  unpleasant  state  of  his 
nerves.  Then,  when  he  recollected  the  events  of  that 
very  afternoon  —  the  weapon  pressed  against  his  throat, 
and  the  strong  arm  which  threw  him  backward  on  the 
floor  —  if  the  remembrance  served  to  contradict  the  idea 
of  flitting  phantoms  and  unreal  daggers,  it  certainly  in- 
duced him  to  believe  that  there  was  in  some  part  of  this 
extensive  mansion  a  party  of  Cavaliers,  or  Malignants, 
harboured,  who  might  arise  in  the  night,  overpower  the 
guards,  and  execute  upon  them  all,  but  on  Harrison  in 
particular,  as  one  of  the  regicide  judges,  that  vengeance 
which  was  so  eagerly  thirsted  for  by  the  attached  fol- 
lowers of  the  slaughtered  monarch. 

He  endeavoured  to  console  himself  on  this  subject  by 
the  number  and  position  of  the  guards,  yet  still  was  dis- 
satisfied with  himself  for  not  having  taken  yet  more 
exact  precautions,  and  for  keeping  an  extorted  promise 
of  silence  which  might  consign  so  many  of  his  party  to 
the  danger  of  assassination.  These  thoughts,  connected 
with  his  military  duties,  awakened  another  train  of  re- 
flections. He  bethought  liimself ,  that  all  he  could  now 
do  was  to  visit  the  sentries  and  ascertain  that  they  were 

2U 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

awake,  alert,  on  the  watch,  and  so  situated  that  in  time 
of  need  they  might  be  ready  to  support  each  other.  '  This 
better  befits  me,'  he  thought, '  than  to  be  here  Hke  a  child, 
frightening  myself  with  the  old  woman's  legend  which 
I  have  laughed  at  when  a  boy.  What  although  old  Victor 
Lee  was  a  sacrilegious  man,  as  common  report  goes,  and 
brewed  ale  in  the  font  which  he  brought  from  the  an- 
cient palace  of  Holyrood,  while  church  and  building  were 
in  flames?  And  what  although  his  eldest  son  was  when 
a  child  scalded  to  death  in  the  same  vessel?  How  many 
churches  have  been  demolished  since  his  time?  How 
many  fonts  desecrated?  So  many,  indeed,  that,  were  the 
vengeance  of  Heaven  to  visit  such  aggressions  in  a  super- 
natural manner,  no  corner  in  England,  no,  not  the  most 
petty  parish  church,  but  would  have  its  apparition. 
Tush,  these  are  idle  fancies,  unworthy,  especially,  to  be 
entertained  by  those  educated  to  believe  that  sanctity 
resides  in  the  intention  and  the  act,  not  in  the  buildings 
or  fonts,  or  the  form  of  worship.' 

As  thus  he  called  together  the  articles  of  his  Calvin- 
istic  creed,  the  bell  of  the  great  clock  (a  token  seldom 
silent  in  such  narratives)  tolled  three,  and  was  immedi- 
ately followed  by  the  hoarse  call  of  the  sentinels  through 
vault  and  gallery,  upstairs  and  beneath,  challenging  and 
answering  each  other  with  the  usual  watchword,  'All  's 
well.'  Their  voices  mingled  with  the  deep  boom  of  the 
bell,  yet  ceased  before  that  was  silent,  and  when  they 
had  died  away,  the  tingling  echo  of  the  prolonged  knell 
was  scarcely  audible.  Ere  yet  that  last  distant  tingling 
had  finally  subsided  into  silence,  it  seemed  as  if  it  again 
was  awakened;  and  Everard  could  hardly  judge  at  first 
whether  a  new  echo  had  taken  up  the  falling  cadence,  or 

252 


WOODSTOCK 

whether  some  other  and  separate  sound  was  disturbing 
anew  the  silence  to  which  the  deep  knell  had,  as  its 
voice  ceased,  consigned  the  ancient  mansion  and  the 
woods  around  it. 

But  the  doubt  was  soon  cleared  up.  The  musical 
tones,  which  had  mingled  with  the  dying  echoes  of  the 
knell,  seemed  at  first  to  prolong,  and  afterwards  to  sur- 
vive, them.  A  wild  strain  of  melody,  beginning  at  a  dis- 
tance, and  growing  louder  as  it  advanced,  seemed  to 
pass  from  room  to  room,  from  cabinet  to  gallery,  from 
hall  to  bower,  through  the  deserted  and  dishonoured 
ruins  of  the  ancient  residence  of  so  many  sovereigns; 
and,  as  it  approached,  no  soldier  gave  alarm,  nor  did  any 
of  the  numerous  guests  of  various  degrees  who  spent 
an  unpleasant  and  terrified  night  in  that  ancient  man- 
sion seem  to  dare  to  announce  to  each  other  the  inex- 
plicable cause  of  apprehension. 

Everard's  excited  state  of  mind  did  not  permit  him  to 
be  so  passive.  The  sounds  approached  so  nigh,  that  it 
seemed  they  were  performing  in  the  very  next  apart- 
ment a  solemn  service  for  the  dead,  when  he  gave  the 
alarm,  by  calling  loudly  to  his  trusty  attendant  and 
friend  Wildrake,  who  slumbered  in  the  next  chamber 
with  only  a  door  betwixt  them,  and  even  that  ajar. 

'Wildrake  —  Wildrake!  Up  —  up!  Dost  thou  not 
hear  the  alarm?' 

There  was  no  answer  from  Wildrake,  though  the  musi- 
cal sounds,  which  now  rung  through  the  apartment  as 
if  the  performers  had  actually  been  within  its  precincts, 
would  have  been  sufficient  to  awaken  a  sleeping  person, 
even  without  the  shout  of  his  comrade  and  patron. 

'Alarm,  Roger  Wildrake  —  alarm! '  again  called  Ever- 

253 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

ard,  getting  out  of  bed  and  grasping  his  weapons.  *  Get 
a  light,  and  cry  alarm!' 

There  was  no  answer.  His  voice  died  away  as  the 
sound  of  the  music  seemed  also  to  die;  and  the  same  soft 
sweet  voice,  which  still  to  his  thinking  resembled  that 
of  Alice  Lee,  was  heard  in  his  apartment,  and,  as  he 
thought,  at  no  distance  from  him. 

'Your  comrade  will  not  answer,'  said  the  low  soft 
voice.  'Those  only  hear  the  alarm  whose  consciences 
feel  the  call.' 

'Again  this  mummery!'  said  Everard.  'I  am  better 
armed  than  I  was  of  late;  and  but  for  the  sound  of  that 
voice,  the  speaker  had  bought  his  trifling  dear.' 

It  was  singular,  we  may  observe  in  passing,  that  the 
instant  the  distinct  sounds  of  the  human  voice  were 
heard  by  Everard,  all  idea  of  supernatural  interference 
was  at  an  end,  and  the  charm  by  which  he  had  been 
formerly  fettered  appeared  to  be  broken ;  so  much  is  the 
influence  of  imaginary  or  superstitious  terror  dependent 
(so  far  as  respects  strong  judgments  at  least),  upon  what 
is  vague  or  ambiguous ;  and  so  readily  do  distinct  tones 
and  express  ideas  bring  such  judgments  back  to  the 
current  of  ordinary  hfe. 

The  voice  returned  answer,  as  addressing  his  thoughts 
as  well  as  his  words.  'We  laugh  at  the  weapons  thou 
thinkest  should  terrify  us.  Over  the  guardians  of  Wood- 
stock they  have  no  power.  Fire,  if  thou  wilt,  and  try  the 
effect  of  thy  weapons.  But  know,  it  is  not  our  purpose 
to  harm  thee:  thou  art  of  a  falcon  breed,  and  noble  in 
thy  disposition,  though,  unreclaimed  and  ill  nurtured, 
thou  hauntest  with  kites  and  carrion  crows.  Wing  thy 
flight  from  hence  on  the  morrow,  for,  if  thou  tarriest 

254 


WOODSTOCK 

with  the  bats,  owls,  vultures,  and  ravens  which  have 
thought  to  nestle  here,  thou  wilt  inevitably  share  their 
fate.  Away,  then,  that  these  halls  may  be  swept  and  gar- 
nished for  the  reception  of  those  who  have  a  better  right 
to  inhabit  them.' 

Everard  answered  in  a  raised  voice.  *  Once  more  I  warn 
you,  think  not  to  defy  me  in  vain.  I  am  no  child  to  be 
frightened  by  goblins'  tales,  and  no  coward,  armed  as  I 
am,  to  be  alarmed  at  the  threats  of  banditti.  If  I  give 
you  a  moment's  indulgence,  it  is  for  the  sake  of  dear  and 
misguided  friends,  who  may  be  concerned  with  this 
dangerous  gambol.  Know,  I  can  bring  a  troop  of  soldiers 
round  the  castle,  who  will  search  its  most  inward  recesses 
for  the  author  of  this  audacious  frolic ;  and  if  that  search 
should  fail,  it  will  cost  but  a  few  barrels  of  gunpowder 
to  make  the  mansion  a  heap  of  ruins,  and  bury  under 
them  the  authors  of  such  an  ill-judged  pastime.' 

'You  speak  proudly,  sir  colonel,'  said  another  voice, 
similar  to  that  harsher  and  stronger  tone  by  which  he 
had  been  addressed  in  the  gallery ;  *  try  your  courage  in 
this  direction.' 

'You  should  not  dare  me  twice,'  said  Colonel  Ever- 
ard, 'had  I  a  gHmpse  of  light  to  take  aim  by.' 

As  he  spoke,  a  sudden  gleam  of  light  was  thrown  with 
a  brilhancy  which  almost  dazzled  the  speaker,  showing 
distinctly  a  form  somewhat  resembling  that  of  Victor 
Lee,  as  represented  in  his  picture,  holding  in  one  hand 
a  lady  completely  veiled,  and  in  the  other  his  leading- 
staff  or  truncheon.  Both  figures  were  animated,  and,  as 
it  appeared,  standing  within  six  feet  of  him. 

'Were  it  not  for  the  woman,'  said  Everard,  'I  would 
not  be  thus  mortally  dared.' 

255 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'Spare  not  for  the  female  form,  but  do  your  worst,' 
replied  the  same  voice.  'I  defy  you.' 

'Repeat  your  defiance  when  I  have  counted  thrice,' 
said  Everard,  'and  take  the  punishment  of  your  inso- 
lence. Once  —  I  have  cocked  my  pistol.  Twice  —  I  never 
missed  my  aim.  By  all  that  is  sacred,  I  fire  if  you  do  not 
withdraw.  When  I  pronounce  the  next  number,  I  will 
shoot  you  dead  where  you  stand.  I  am  yet  unwilling  to 
shed  blood :  I  give  you  another  chance  of  flight,  once  — 

twice  —  THRICE ! ' 

Everard  aimed  at  the  bosom,  and  discharged  his  pis- 
tol. The  figure  waved  its  arm  in  an  attitude  of  scorn: 
and  a  loud  laugh  arose,  during  which  the  light,  as  gradu- 
ally growing  weaker,  danced  and  glimmered  upon  the 
apparition  of  the  aged  knight,  and  then  disappeared. 
Everard's  life-blood  ran  cold  in  his  heart.  '  Had  he  been 
of  human  mould,'  he  thought,  'the  bullet  must  have 
pierced  him,  but  I  have  neither  will  nor  power  to  fight 
with  supernatural  beings.' 

The  feeling  of  oppression  was  now  so  strong  as  to  be 
actually  sickening.  He  groped  his  way,  however,  to  the 
fireside,  and  flung  on  the  embers,  which  were  yet  gleam- 
ing, a  handful  of  dry  fuel.  It  presently  blazed,  and  af- 
forded him  light  to  see  the  room  in  every  direction. 
He  looked  cautiously,  almost  timidly,  around,  and  half 
expected  some  horrible  phantom  to  become  visible.  But 
he  saw  nothing  save  the  old  furniture,  the  reading-desk, 
and  other  articles,  which  had  been  left  in  the  same  state 
as  when  Sir  Henry  Lee  departed.  He  felt  an  imcontrol- 
lable  desire,  mingled  with  much  repugnance,  to  look  at 
the  portrait  of  the  ancient  knight,  which  the  form  he 
had  seen  so  strongly  resembled.    He  hesitated  betwixt 

256 


WOODSTOCK 

the  opposing  feelings,  but  at  length  snatched,  with  des- 
perate resolution,  the  taper  which  he  had  extinguished, 
and  relighted  it,  ere  the  blaze  of  the  fuel  had  again  died 
away.  He  held  it  up  to  the  ancient  portrait  of  Victor 
Lee,  and  gazed  on  it  with  eager  curiosity,  not  unmingled 
with  fear.  Almost  the  childish  terrors  of  his  earlier  days 
returned,  and  he  thought  the  severe  pale  eye  of  the  an- 
cient warrior  followed  his,  and  menaced  him  with  its 
displeasure.  And  although  he  quickly  argued  himself 
out  of  such  an  absurd  behef,  yet  the  mixed  feehngs  of 
his  mind  were  expressed  in  words  that  seemed  half  ad- 
dressed to  the  ancient  portrait. 

'Soul  of  my  mother's  ancestor,'  he  said,  'be  it  for 
weal  or  for  woe,  by  designing  men  or  by  supernatural 
beings,  that  these  ancient  halls  are  disturbed,  I  am  re- 
solved to  leave  them  on  the  morrow.' 

*I  rejoice  to  hear  it,  with  all  my  soul,'  said  a  voice 
behind  him. 

He  turned,  saw  a  tall  figure  in  white,  with  a  sort  of 
turban  upon  its  head,  and  dropping  the  candle  in  the 
exertion,  instantly  grappled  with  it. 

'  Thou  at  least  are  palpable,'  he  said. 

*  Palpable ! '  answered  he  whom  he  grasped  so  strongly. 
'  'Sdeath,  methinks  you  might  know  that  without  the 
risk  of  choking  me;  and  if  you  loose  me  not,  I  '11  show 
you  that  two  can  play  at  the  game  of  wrestling.' 

'Roger  Wildrake!'  said  Everard,  letting  the  CavaHer 
loose,  and  stepping  back. 

'Roger  Wildrake?  ay,  truly.  Did  you  take  me  for 
Roger  Bacon,  come  to  help  you  to  raise  the  Devil,  for 
the  place  smells  of  sulphur  consumed^? ' 

'It  is  the  pistol  I  fired.  Did  you  not  hear  it?' 

87  257 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'Why,  yes,  it  was  the  first  thing  waked  me,  for 
that  nightcap  which  I  pulled  on  made  me  sleep  like 
a  dormouse.  Pshaw,  I  feel  my  brains  giddy  with  it 
yet.' 

'And  wherefore  came  you  not  on  the  instant?  I  never 
needed  help  more.' 

*I  came  as  fast  as  I  could,'  answered  Wildrake;  'but 
it  was  some  time  ere  I  got  my  senses  collected,  for  I  was 
dreaming  of  that  cursed  field  at  Naseby;  and  then  the 
door  of  my  room  was  shut,  and  hard  to  open,  till  I  played 
the  locksmith  with  my  foot.' 

'How!  it  was  open  when  I  went  to  bed,'  said  Everard. 

'It  was  locked  when  I  came  out  of  bed,  though,' 
said  Wildrake,  '  and  I  marvel  you  heard  me  not  when  I 
forced  it  open.' 

'My  mind  was  occupied  otherwise,'  said  Everard, 

'Well,'  said  Wildrake,  'but  what  has  happened?  Here 
am  I  bolt  upright,  and  ready  to  fight,  if  this  yawning 
fit  will  give  me  leave.  Mother  Redcap's  mightiest  is 
weaker  than  I  drank  last  night,  by  a  bushel  to  a  barley- 
corn. I  had  quaffed  the  very  elixir  of  malt.  Ha  —  yaw.' 

'And  some  opiate  besides,  I  should  think,'  said  Ever- 
ard. 

'  Very  like  —  very  like ;  less  than  the  pistol-shot  would 
not  waken  me  —  even  me,  who  with  but  an  ordinary 
grace-cup  sleep  as  lightly  as  a  maiden  on  the  first  of 
May,  when  she  watches  for  the  earliest  beam  to  go  to 
gather  dew.   But  what  are  you  about  to  do  next? ' 

'Nothing,'  answered  Everard. 

'Nothing?'  said  Wildrake,  in  surprise. 

'I  speak  it,'  said  Colonel  Everard,  'less  for  your  in- 
formation than  for  that  of  others  who  may  hear  me,  that 

258 


WOODSTOCK 

I  will  leave  the  lodge  this  morning,  and,  if  it  is  possible, 
remove  the  Commissioners.' 

'Hark,'  said  Wildrake,  'do  you  not  hear  some  noise, 
like  the  distant  sound  of  the  applause  of  a  theatre? 
The  goblins  of  the  place  rejoice  in  your  departure.' 

'I  shall  leave  Woodstock,'  said  Everard,  'to  the  occu- 
pation of  my  uncle  Sir  Henry  Lee,  and  his  family,  if 
they  choose  to  resume  it;  not  that  I  am  frightened  into 
this  as  a  concession  to  the  series  of  artifices  which  have 
been  played  off  on  this  occasion,  but  solely  because  such 
was  my  intention  from  the  beginning.  But  let  me  warn,' 
he  added,  raising  his  voice,  'let  me  warn  the  parties  con- 
cerned in  this  combination  that,  though  it  may  pass 
off  successfully  on  a  fool  like  Desborough,  a  visionary 
like  Harrison,  a  coward  like  Bletson  — ' 

Here  a  voice  distinctly  spoke,  as  standing  near  them 
—  '  Or  a  wise,  moderate,  and  resolute  person  like  Colonel 
Everard.' 

'By  Heaven,  the  voice  came  from  the  picture,'  said 
Wildrake,  drawing  his  sword;  'I  will  pink  his  plated 
armour  for  him.' 

*  Offer  no  violence,'  said  Everard,  startled  at  the  inter- 
ruption, but  resuming  with  firmness  what  he  was  saying. 
'Let  those  engaged  be  aware  that,  however  this  string 
of  artifices  may  be  immediately  successful,  it  must, 
when  closely  looked  into,  be  attended  with  the  punish- 
ment of  all  concerned,  the  total  demolition  of  Woodstock, 
and  the  irremediable  downfall  of  the  family  of  Lee.  Let 
all  concerned  think  of  this,  and  desist  in  time.' 

He  paused,  and  almost  expected  a  reply,  but  none 
such  came. 

'  It  is  a  very  odd  thing,'  said  Wildrake ; '  but  —  yaw-ha 

259 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

—  my  brain  cannot  compass  it  just  now:  it  whirls  round 
like  a  toast  in  a  bowl  of  muscadine.  I  must  sit  down  — 
ha-yaw  —  and  discuss  it  at  leisure.  Gramercy,  good 
elbow-chair.' 

So  saying,  he  threw  himself,  or  rather  sank  gradually, 
down  on  a  large  easy-chair,  which  had  been  often 
pressed  by  the  weight  of  stout  Sir  Henry  Lee,  and  in  an 
instant  was  sound  asleep.  Everard  was  far  from 
feehng  the  same  inclination  for  slumber,  yet  his  mind 
was  relieved  of  the  apprehension  of  any  further  visita- 
tion that  night;  for  he  considered  his  treaty  to  evacuate 
Woodstock  as  made  known  to,  and  accepted  in  all  pro- 
bability by,  those  whom  the  intrusion  of  the  Commis- 
sioners had  induced  to  take  such  singular  measures  for 
expelling  them.  His  opinion,  which  had  for  a  time 
bent  towards  a  belief  in  something  supernatural  in  the 
disturbances,  had  now  returned  to  the  more  rational 
mode  of  accounting  for  them  by  dexterous  combination, 
for  which  such  a  mansion  as  Woodstock  afforded  so 
many  facilities. 

He  heaped  the  hearth  with  fuel,  lighted  the  candle, 
and,  examining  poor  Wildrake's  situation,  adjusted  him 
as  easily  in  the  chair  as  he  could,  the  CavaHer  stirring 
his  limbs  no  more  than  an  infant.  His  situation  went 
far,  in  his  patron's  opinion,  to  infer  trick  and  confed- 
eracy, for  ghosts  had  no  occasion  to  drug  men's  possets. 
He  threw  himself  on  the  bed,  and  while  he  thought 
these  strange  circumstances  over,  a  sweet  and  low  strain 
of  music  stole  through  the  chamber,  the  words,  *  Good- 
night—  good-night — good-night,'  thrice  repeated,  each 
time  in  a  softer  and  more  distant  tone,  seeming  to  as- 
sure him  that  the  goblins  and  he  were  at  truce,  if  not 

260 


WOODSTOCK 

at  peace,  and  that  he  had  no  more  disturbance  to  ex- 
pect that  night.  He  had  scarcely  the  courage  to  call 
out  a  'good-night';  for,  after  all  his  conviction  of  the 
existence  of  a  trick,  it  was  so  well  performed  as  to  bring 
with  it  a  feeling  of  fear,  just  like  what  an  audience  ex- 
perience during  the  performance  of  a  tragic  scene,  which 
they  know  to  be  unreal,  and  which  yet  affects  their  pas- 
sions by  its  near  approach  to  nature.  Sleep  overtook 
him  at  last,  and  left  him  not  till  broad  daylight  on  the 
ensuing  morning. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

And  yonder  shines  Aurora's  harbinger, 

At  whose  approach  ghosts,  wandering  here  and  there, 

Troop  home  to  churchyards. 

Midsummer  Night's  Dream. 

With  the  fresh  air,  and  the  rising  of  morning,  every 
feeling  of  the  preceding  night  had  passed  away  from 
Colonel  Everard's  mind,  excepting  wonder  how  the  ef- 
fects which  he  had  witnessed  could  be  produced.  He 
examined  the  whole  room,  sounding  both  floor  and  wain- 
scot with  his  knuckles  and  cane,  but  was  unable  to  dis- 
cern any  secret  passages;  while  the  door,  secured  by  a 
strong  cross-bolt,  and  the  lock  besides,  remained  as  firm 
as  when  he  had  fastened  it  on  the  preceding  evening. 
The  apparition  resembling  Victor  Lee  next  called  his 
attention.  Ridiculous  stories  had  been  often  circulated 
of  this  figure,  or  one  exactly  resembling  it,  having  been 
met  with  by  night  among  the  waste  apartments  and  cor- 
ridors of  the  old  palace;  and  Markham  Everard  had 
often  heard  such  in  his  childhood.  He  was  angry  to  re- 
collect his  own  deficiency  of  courage,  and  the  thrill 
which  he  felt  on  the  preceding  night  when,  by  confeder- 
acy doubtless,  such  an  object  was  placed  before  his  eyes. 

'Surely/  he  said,  'this  fit  of  childish  folly  could  not 
make  me  miss  my  aim;  more  hkely  that  the  bullet  had 
been  withdrawn  clandestinely  from  my  pistol.' 

He  examined  that  which  was  undischarged ;  he  found 
the  bullet  in  it.  He  investigated  the  apartment  oppo- 
site to  the  point  at  which  he  had  fired,  and  at  five  feet 

262 


WOODSTOCK 

from  the  floor,  in  a  direct  line  between  the  bedside  and 
the  place  where  the  appearances  had  been  seen,  a  pistol- 
ball  had  recently  buried  itself  in  the  wainscot.  He  had 
little  doubt,  therefore,  that  he  had  fired  in  a  just  direc- 
tion; and  indeed,  to  have  arrived  at  the  place  where  it 
was  lodged,  the  bullet  must  have  passed  through  the 
appearance  at  which  he  aimed,  and  proceeded  point- 
blank  to  the  wall  beyond.  This  was  mysterious,  and 
induced  him  to  doubt  whether  the  art  of  witchcraft  or 
conjuration  had  not  been  called  in  to  assist  the  machina- 
tions of  those  daring  conspirators,  who,  being  themselves 
mortal,  might,  nevertheless,  according  to  the  universal 
creed  of  the  times,  have  invoked  and  obtained  assistance 
from  the  inhabitants  of  another  world. 

His  next  investigation  respected  the  picture  of  Victor 
Lee  itself.  He  examined  it  minutely  as  he  stood  on  the 
floor  before  it,  and  compared  its  pale,  shadowy,  faintly- 
traced  outlines,  its  faded  colours,  the  stern  repose  of  the 
eye,  and  deathlike  pallidness  of  the  countenance  with 
its  different  aspect  on  the  preceding  night,  when  illum- 
inated by  the  artificial  light  which  fell  full  upon  it,  while 
it  left  every  other  part  of  the  room  in  comparative  dark- 
ness. The  features  seemed  then  to  have  an  unnatural 
glow,  while  the  rising  and  falling  of  the  flame  in  the 
chimney  gave  the  head  and  limbs  something  which  re- 
sembled the  appearance  of  actual  motion.  Now,  seen 
by  day,  it  was  a  mere  picture  of  the  hard  and  ancient 
school  of  Holbein;  last  night,  it  seemed  for  the  moment 
something  more.  Determined  to  get  to  the  bottom  of 
this  contrivance  if  possible,  Everard,  by  the  assistance 
of  a  table  and  chair,  examined  the  portrait  still  more 
closely,  and  endeavoured  to  ascertain  the  existence  of 

263 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

any  private  spring,  by  which  it  might  be  slipt  aside  —  a 
contrivance  not  unfrequent  in  ancient  buildings,  which 
usually  abounded  with  means  of  access  and  escape,  com- 
municated to  none  but  the  lords  of  the  castle,  or  their 
immediate  confidants.  But  the  panel  on  which  Victor 
Lee  was  painted  was  firmly  fixed  in  the  wainscoting  of 
the  apartment,  of  which  it  made  a  part,  and  the  colonel 
satisfied  himself  that  it  could  not  have  been  used  for  the 
purpose  which  he  had  suspected. 

He  next  aroused  his  faithful  squire  Wildrake,  who, 
notwithstanding  his  deep  share  of  the  'blessedness  of 
sleep,'  had  scarce  even  yet  got  rid  of  the  effects  of  the 
grace-cup  of  the  preceding  evening.  *  It  was  the  reward,' 
according  to  his  own  view  of  the  matter,  'of  his  tem- 
perance, one  single  draught  having  made  him  sleep 
more  late  and  more  sound  than  a  matter  of  half  a 
dozen,  or  from  thence  to  a  dozen,  pulls  would  have  done, 
when  he  was  guilty  of  the  enormity  of  rere-suppers,*  and 
of  drinking  deep  after  them.' 

'Had  your  temperate  draught,'  said  Everard,  'been 
but  a  thought  more  strongly  seasoned,  Wildrake,  thou 
hadst  slept  so  sound  that  the  last  trump  only  could  have 
waked  thee.' 

'And  then,'  answered  Wildrake,  'I  should  have  waked 
with  a  headache,  Mark;  for  I  see  my  modest  sip  has  not 
exempted  me  from  that  epilogue.  But  let  us  go  forth, 
and  see  how  the  night,  which  we  have  passed  so  strangely, 
has  been  spent  by  the  rest  of  them.  I  suspect  they  are 
all  right  willing  to  evacuate  Woodstock,  unless  they  have 
either  rested  better  than  we  or  at  least  been  more  lucky 
in  lodgings.' 

*  See  Note  2. 
264 


WOODSTOCK 

'In  that  case,  I  will  dispatch  thee  down  to  Joceline's 
hut,  to  negotiate  the  reentrance  of  Sir  Henry  Lee  and 
his  family  into  their  old  apartments,  where,  my  interest 
with  the  General  being  joined  with  the  indifferent  re- 
pute of  the  place  itself,  I  think  they  have  Httle  chance 
of  being  disturbed  either  by  the  present  or  by  any 
new  Commissioners.' 

'But  how  are  they  to  defend  themselves  against  the 
fiends,  my  gallant  Colonel? '  said  Wildrake.  *  Methinks, 
had  I  an  interest  in  yonder  pretty  girl  such  as  thou 
dost  boast,  I  should  be  loth  to  expose  her  to  the  terrors 
of  a  residence  at  Woodstock,  where  these  devils  —  I 
beg  their  pardon,  for  I  suppose  they  hear  every  word  we 
say  —  these  merry  goblins  make  such  gay  work  from 
twilight  till  morning.' 

*  My  dear  Wildrake, '  said  the  colonel, '  I,  as  well  as  you, 
believe  it  possible  that  our  speech  may  be  overheard; 
but  I  care  not,  and  will  speak  my  mind  plainly.  I  trust 
Sir  Henry  and  Alice  are  not  engaged  in  this  silly  plot :  I 
cannot  reconcile  it  with  the  pride  of  the  one,  the  modesty 
of  the  other,  or  the  good  sense  of  both,  that  any  motive 
could  engage  them  in  so  strange  a  conjunction.  But  the 
fiends  are  all  of  your  own  political  persuasion,  Wildrake, 
all  true-blue  CavaUers;  and  I  am  convinced  that  Sir 
Henry  and  Alice  Lee,  though  they  be  unconnected  with 
them,  have  not  the  sUghtest  cause  to  be  apprehensive  of 
their  goblin  machinations.  Besides,  Sir  Henry  and  Joce- 
line  must  know  every  corner  about  the  place :  it  will  be 
far  more  difficult  to  play  off  any  ghostly  machinery  upon 
him  than  upon  strangers.  But  let  us  to  our  toilet,  and 
when  water  and  brush  have  done  their  work,  we  will 
inquire  what  is  next  to  be  done.' 

265 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'Nay,  that  wretched  Puritan's  garb  of  mine  is  hardly- 
worth  brushing,'  said  Wildrake;  'and  but  for  this  hun- 
dred-weight of  rusty  iron,  with  which  thou  hast  be- 
dizened me,  I  look  more  hke  a  bankrupt  Quaker  than 
anything  else.  But  I  '11  make  you  as  spruce  as  ever  was 
a  canting  rogue  of  your  party.' 

So  saying,  and  humming  at  the  same  time  the  Cava- 
lier tune  — 

'  Though  for  a  time  we  see  Whitehall 
With  cobwebs  hung  around  the  wall, 
Yet  Heaven  shall  make  amends  for  all, 
When  the  King  shall  enjoy  his  own  again.' 

'Thou  forgettest  who  are  without,'  said  Colonel 
Everard. 

'No,  I  remember  who  are  within,'  replied  his  friend. 
'  I  only  sing  to  my  merry  goblins,  who  will  like  me  all  the 
better  for  it.  Tush,  man,  the  devils  are  my  honos  socios, 
and  when  I  see  them,  I  will  warrant  they  prove  such 
roaring  boys  as  I  knew  when  I  served  under  Lundsf  ord 
and  Goring  —  fellows  with  long  nails  that  nothing  es- 
caped, bottomless  stomachs  that  nothing  filled,  mad 
for  pillaging,  ranting,  drinking,  and  fighting,  sleeping 
rough  on  the  trenches,  and  dying  stubbornly  in  their 
boots.  Ah !  those  merry  days  are  gone  1  Well,  it  is  the 
fashion  to  make  a  grave  face  on 't  among  CavaHers,  and 
specially  the  parsons  that  have  lost  their  tithe-pigs;  but 
I  was  fitted  for  the  element  of  the  time,  and  never  did 
or  can  desire  merrier  days  than  I  had  during  that  same 
barbarous,  bloody,  and  unnatural  rebellion.' 

'Thou  wert  ever  a  wild  sea-bird,  Roger,  even  accord- 
ing to  your  name,  liking  the  gale  better  than  the  calm, 
the  boisterous  ocean  better  than  the  smooth  lake,  and 

266 


WOODSTOCK 

your  rough,  wild  struggle  against  the  wind  than  daily 
food,  ease,  and  quiet.' 

'Pshaw!  a  fig  for  your  smooth  lake,  and  your  old 
woman  to  feed  me  with  brewer's  grains,  and  the  poor 
drake  obliged  to  come  swattering  whenever  she  whistles! 
Everard,  I  like  to  feel  the  wind  rustle  against  my  pinions 
—  now  diving,  now  on  the  crest  of  the  wave,  now  in 
ocean,  now  in  sky;  that  is  the  wildrake's  joy,  my  grave 
one.  And  in  the  Civil  War  so  it  went  mth  us  —  down  in 
one  county,  up  in  another,  beaten  to-day,  victorious 
to-morrow,  now  starving  in  some  barren  leaguer,  now 
revelling  in  a  Presbyterian's  pantry  —  his  cellars,  his 
plate-chest,  his  old  judicial  thiunb-ring,  his  pretty  serv- 
ing-wench, all  at  command!' 

*Hush,  friend,'  said  Everard;  'remember  I  hold  that 
persuasion.' 

'More  the  pity,  Mark  —  more  the  pity,'  said  Wild- 
rake;  '  but,  as  you  say,  it  is  needless  talking  of  it.  Let 
us  e'en  go  and  see  how  your  Presbyterian  pastor,  Mr. 
Holdenough,  has  fared,  and  whether  he  has  proved 
more  able  to  foil  the  Foul  Fiend  than  have  you  his 
disciple  and  auditor.' 

They  left  the  apartment  accordingly,  and  were  over- 
whelmed with  the  various  incoherent  accounts  of  senti- 
nels and  others,  all  of  whom  had  seen  or  heard  something 
extraordinary  in  the  course  of  the  night.  It  is  needless 
to  describe  particularly  the  various  rumours  which  each 
contributed  to  the  common  stock,  with  the  greater  alac- 
rity that  in  such  cases  there  seems  always  to  be  a  sort 
of  disgrace  in  not  having  seen  or  suffered  as  much  as 
others. 

The  most  moderate  of  the  narrators  only  talked  of 

267 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

sounds  like  the  mewing  of  a  cat,  or  the  growling  of  a  dog, 
especially  the  squeaking  of  a  pig.  They  heard  also  as 
if  it  had  been  nails  driven  and  saws  used,  and  the  clash- 
ing of  fetters,  and  the  rustling  of  silk  gowns,  and  the 
notes  of  music,  and  in  short  all  sorts  of  sounds  which 
have  nothing  to  do  with  each  other.  Others  swore  they 
had  smelt  savours  of  various  kinds,  chiefly  bituminous, 
indicating  a  Satanic  derivation;  others  did  not  indeed 
swear,  but  protested,  to  visions  of  men  in  armour,  horses 
without  heads,  asses  with  horns,  and  cows  with  six  legs, 
not  to  mention  black  figures,  whose  cloven  hoofs  gave 
plain  information  what  realm  they  belonged  to. 

But  these  strongly-attested  cases  of  nocturnal  dis- 
turbances among  the  sentinels  had  been  so  general  as 
to  prevent  alarm  and  succour  on  any  particular  point, 
so  that  those  who  were  on  duty  called  in  vain  on  the 
corps  de  garde,  who  were  trembling  on  their  own  post; 
and  an  alert  enemy  might  have  done  complete  execution 
on  the  whole  garrison.  But  amid  this  general  alerte,  no 
violence  appeared  to  be  meant,  and  annoyance,  not  in- 
jury, seemed  to  have  been  the  goblins'  object,  excepting 
in  the  case  of  one  poor  fellow,  a  trooper,  who  had  fol- 
lowed Harrison  in  half  his  battles,  and  now  was  sentinel 
in  that  very  vestibule  upon  which  Everard  had  recom- 
mended them  to  mount  a  guard.  He  had  presented  his 
carabine  at  something  which  came  suddenly  upon  him, 
when  it  was  wrested  out  of  his  hands,  and  he  himself 
knocked  down  with  the  butt  end  of  it.  His  broken  head 
and  the  drenched  bedding  of  Desborough,  upon  whom 
a  tub  of  ditch-water  had  been  emptied  during  his  sleep, 
were  the  only  pieces  of  real  evidence  to  attest  the  dis- 
turbances of  the  night. 

268 


WOODSTOCK 

The  reports  from  Harrison's  apartment  were,  as  de- 
Kvered  by  the  grave  Master  Tomkins,  that  truly  the 
general  had  passed  the  night  undisturbed,  though  there 
was  still  upon  him  a  deep  sleep,  and  a  folding  of  the 
hands  to  slumber;  from  which  Everard  argued  that  the 
machinators  had  esteemed  Harrison's  part  of  the  reckon- 
ing sufficiently  paid  oflf  on  the  preceding  evening. 

He  then  proceeded  to  the  apartment  doubly  garri- 
soned by  the  worshipful  Desborough  and  the  philosophi- 
cal Bletson.  They  were  both  up  and  dressing  themselves, 
the  former  open-mouthed  in  his  f eehng  of  fear  and  suffer- 
ing. Indeed,  no  sooner  had  Everard  entered  than  the 
ducked  and  dismayed  colonel  made  a  dismal  complaint 
of  the  way  he  had  spent  the  night,  and  murmured  not 
a  httle  against  his  worshipful  kinsman  for  imposing  a 
task  upon  him  which  inferred  so  much  annoyance. 

'Could  not  his  Excellency  my  kinsman  Noll,'  he  said, 
'have  given  his  poor  relative  and  brother-in-law  a  sop 
somewhere  else  than  out  of  this  Woodstock,  which  seems 
to  be  the  Devil's  own  porridge-pot?  I  cannot  sup  broth 
with  the  Devil:  I  have  no  long  spoon  —  not  I.  Could 
he  not  have  quartered  me  in  some  quiet  comer,  and  given 
this  haunted  place  to  some  of  his  preachers  and  prayers, 
who  know  the  Bible  as  well  as  the  muster-roll?  whereas 
I  know  the  four  hoofs  of  a  clean-going  nag,  or  the  points 
of  a  team  of  oxen,  better  than  all  the  books  of  Moses. 
But  I  will  give  it  over,  at  once  and  for  ever:  hopes  of 
earthly  gain  shall  never  make  me  run  the  risk  of  being 
carried  away  bodily  by  the  Devil,  besides  being  set  upon 
my  head  one  whole  night,  and  soused  with  ditch-water 
the  next.   No  —  no;  I  am  too  wise  for  that.' 

Master  Bletson  had  a  different  part  to  act.   He  com- 

269 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

plained  of  no  personal  annoyances;  on  the  contrary,  he 
declared  '  he  should  have  slept  as  well  as  ever  he  did  in 
his  life,  but  for  the  abominable  disturbances  around 
him,  of  men  calling  to  arms  every  half  hour,  when  so 
much  as  a  cat  trotted  by  one  of  their  posts.  He  would 
rather,'  he  said,  'have  slept  among  a  whole  sabaoth  of 
witches,  if  such  creatures  could  be  found.' 

'Then  you  think  there  are  no  such  things  as  appari- 
tions, Master  Bletson?'  said  Everard.  'I  used  to  be 
sceptical  on  the  subject;  but,  on  my  Ufe,  to-night  has 
been  a  strange  one.' 

'Dreams  —  dreams  —  dreams,  my  simple  colonel,* 
said  Bletson,  though  his  pale  face  and  shaking  limbs 
belied  the  assumed  courage  with  which  he  spoke.  *  Old 
Chaucer,  sir,  hath  told  us  the  real  moral  on't.  He 
was  an  old  frequenter  of  the  forest  of  Woodstock, 
here  — ' 

'Chaser!'  said  Desborough;  'some  huntsman  belike, 
by  his  name.  Does  he  walk,  like  Hearne  at  Windsor? ' 

'Chaucer,'  said  Bletson,  'my  dear  Desborough,  is  one 
of  those  wonderful  fellows,  as  Colonel  Everard  knows, 
who  live  many  a  hundred  years  after  they  are  buried, 
and  whose  words  haunt  our  ears  after  their  bones  are 
long  mouldered  in  the  dust.' 

'Ay  —  ay!  well,'  answered  Desborough,  to  whom  this 
description  of  the  old  poet  was  unintelligible,  '  I  for  one 
desire  his  room  rather  than  his  company  —  one  of  your 
conjurers,  I  warrant  him.  But  what  says  he  to  the 
matter? ' 

'Only  a  slight  spell,  which  I  will  take  the  freedom  to 
repeat  to  Colonel  Everard,'  said  Bletson;  'but  which 
would  be  as  bad  as  Greek  to  thee,  Desborough.    Old 

270 


WOODSTOCK 

Geoffrey  lays  the  whole  blame  of  our  nocturnal  dis- 
turbance on  superfluity  of  humours, 

WTiich  causen  folke  to  dred  in  their  dreams 
Of  arrowes,  and  of  fire  with  red  gleams, 
Right  as  the  humour  of  Melancholy 
Causeth  many  a  man  in  sleep  to  cry 
For  fear  of  great  bulls  and  bears  black. 
And  others  that  black  devils  will  them  take.' 

While  he  was  thus  declaiming,  Everard  observed  a 
book  sticking  out  from  beneath  the  pillow  of  the  bed 
lately  occupied  by  the  honourable  member. 

*Is  that  Chaucer?'  he  said,  making  to  the  volume.  'I 
would  like  to  look  at  the  passage  — ' 

'Chaucer!'  said  Bletson,  hastening  to  interfere;  'no, 
that  is  Lucretius  —  my  darling  Lucretius.  I  cannot  let 
you  see  it:  I  have  some  private  marks.' 

But  by  this  time  Everard  had  the  book  in  his  hand. 
'Lucretius!'  he  said.  'No,  Master  Bletson,  this  is  not 
Lucretius,  but  a  fitter  comforter  in  dread  or  in  danger. 
Why  should  you  be  ashamed  of  it?  Only,  Bletson,  in- 
stead of  resting  your  head,  if  you  can  but  anchor  your 
heart  upon  this  volume,  it  may  serve  you  in  better 
stead  than  Lucretius  or  Chaucer  either.' 

'Why,  what  book  is  it?'  said  Bletson,  his  pale  cheek 
colouring  with  the  shame  of  detection.  'Oh,  the  Bible!' 
throwing  it  down  contemptuously;  'some  book  of  my 
fellow  Gibeon's:  these  Jews  have  been  always  super- 
stitious, ever  since  Juvenal's  time,  thou  knowest — 

Qualiacunque  voles  Judaei  somnia  vendunt. 

He  left  me  the  old  book  for  a  spell,  I  warrant  you,  for 
't  is  a  well-meaning  fool.' 
'He  would  scarce  have  left  the  New  Testament  as 

271 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

well  as  the  Old/  said  Everard.  'Come,  my  dear  Blet- 
son,  do  not  be  ashamed  of  the  wisest  thing  you  ever  did 
in  your  life,  supposing  you  took  your  Bible  in  an  hour 
of  apprehension,  with  a  view  to  profit  by  the  contents.' 

Bletson's  vanity  was  so  much  galled  that  it  overcame 
his  constitutional  cowardice.  His  little  thin  fingers 
quivered  for  eagerness,  his  neck  and  cheeks  were  as  red 
as  scarlet,  and  his  articulation  was  as  thick  and  vehe- 
ment as  —  in  short,  as  if  he  had  been  no  philosopher. 

'Master  Everard,'  he  said,  'you  are  a  man  of  the 
sword,  sir;  and,  sir,  you  seem  to  suppose  yourself  en- 
titled to  say  whatever  comes  into  your  mind  with  re- 
spect to  civilians,  sir.  But  I  would  have  you  remember, 
sir,  that  there  are  bounds  beyond  which  human  patience 
may  be  urged,  sir,  and  jests  which  no  man  of  honour 
will  endure,  sir;  and,  therefore,  I  expect  an  apology  for 
your  present  language.  Colonel  Everard,  and  this  un- 
mannerly jesting,  sir,  or  you  may  chance  to  hear  from 
me  in  a  way  that  will  not  please  you.' 

Everard  could  not  help  smiling  at  this  explosion  of 
valour,  engendered  by  irritated  self-love. 

'Look  you.  Master  Bletson,'  he  said,  'I  have  been 
a  soldier,  that  is  true,  but  I  was  never  a  bloody-minded 
one;  and  as  a  Christian,  I  am  unwilling  to  enlarge  the 
kingdom  of  darkness  by  sending  a  new  vassal  thither 
before  his  time.  If  Heaven  gives  you  time  to  repent,  I 
see  no  reason  why  my  hand  should  deprive  you  of  it, 
which,  were  we  to  have  a  rencontre,  would  be  your  fate  in 
the  thrust  of  a  sword  or  the  pulling  of  a  trigger.  I  there- 
fore prefer  to  apologise;  and  I  call  Desborough,  if  he  has 
recovered  his  wits,  to  bear  evidence  that  I  do  apologise 
for  having  suspected  you,  who  are  completely  the  slave 

272 


WOODSTOCK 

of  your  own  vanity,  of  any  tendency,  however  slight, 
towards  grace  or  good  sense.  And  I  further  apologise  for 
the  time  that  I  have  wasted  in  endeavouring  to  wash 
an  Ethiopian  white,  or  in  recommending  rational  inquiry 
to  a  self-willed  atheist.' 

Bletson,  overjoyed  at  the  turn  the  matter  had  taken 
—  for  the  defiance  was  scarce  out  of  his  mouth  ere  he 
began  to  tremble  for  the  consequences  —  answered  with 
great  eagerness  and  servility  of  manner  —  'Nay,  dearest 
colonel,  say  no  more  of  it,  an  apology  is  all  that  is  neces- 
sary among  men  of  honour;  it  neither  leaves  dishonour 
with  him  who  asks  it  nor  infers  degradation  on  him  who 
makes  it.' 

'Not  such  an  apology  as  I  have  made,  I  trust,'  said 
the  colonel. 

*No,  no  —  not  in  the  least,'  answered  Bletson;  'one 
apolog>^  serves  me  just  as  well  as  another,  and  Des- 
borough  will  bear  witness  you  have  made  one,  and  that 
is  all  there  can  be  said  on  the  subject.' 

'Master  Desborough  and  you,'  rejoined  the  colonel, 
'  will  take  care  how  the  matter  is  reported,  I  dare  say,  and 
I  only  recommend  to  both  that,  if  mentioned  at  all,  it 
may  be  told  correctly.' 

'Nay  —  nay,  we  will  not  mention  it  at  all,'  said  Blet- 
son: 'we  will  forget  it  from  this  moment.  Only,  never 
suppose  me  capable  of  superstitious  weakness.  Had  I 
been  afraid  of  an  apparent  and  real  danger  —  why, 
such  fear  is  natural  to  man,  and  I  will  not  deny  that  the 
mood  of  mind  may  have  happened  to  me  as  well  as  to 
others.  But  to  be  thought  capable  of  resorting  to  spells, 
and  sleeping  with  books  under  my  pillow  to  secure  my- 
self against  ghosts  —  on  my  word,  it  was  enough  to 
87  273 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

provoke  one  to  quarrel,  for  the  moment,  with  his  very 
best  friend.  And  now.  Colonel,  what  is  to  be  done,  and 
how  is  our  duty  to  be  executed  at  this  accursed  place? 
If  I  should  get  such  a  wetting  as  Desborough's,  why  I 
should  die  of  catarrh,  though  you  see  it  hurts  him  no 
more  than  a  bucket  of  water  thrown  over  a  post-horse. 
You  are,  I  presume,  a  brother  in  our  commission;  how 
are  you  of  opinion  we  should  proceed? ' 

'Why,  in  good  time  here  comes  Harrison,'  said  Ever- 
ard,  'and  I  will  lay  my  commission  from  the  Lord  Gen- 
eral before  you  all,  which,  as  you  see,  Colonel  Des- 
borough,  commands  you  to  desist  from  acting  on  your 
present  authority,  and  intimates  his  pleasure  accord- 
ingly, that  you  withdraw  from  this  place.' 

Desborough  took  the  paper  and  examined  the  signa- 
ture. 'It  is  Noll's  signature  sure  enough,'  said  he  drop- 
ping his  under  jaw ; '  only,  every  time  of  late  he  has  made 
the  "  Oliver"  as  large  as  a  giant,  while  the  "  Cromwell" 
creeps  after  like  a  dwarf,  as  if  the  surname  were  like  to 
disappear  one  of  these  days  altogether.  But  is  his  Ex- 
cellency our  kinsman,  Noll  Cromwell  (since  he  has  the 
surname  yet),  so  unreasonable  as  to  think  his  relations 
and  friends  are  to  be  set  upon  their  heads  till  they  have 
the  crick  in  their  neck,  drenched  as  if  they  had  been 
plunged  in  a  horse-pond,  frightened,  day  and  night,  by 
all  sorts  of  devils,  witches,  and  fairies,  and  get  not  a 
penny  of  smart-money?  Adzooks  —  forgive  me  for 
swearing  —  if  that 's  the  case,  I  had  better  home  to  my 
farm,  and  mind  team  and  herd,  than  dangle  after  such 
a  thankless  person,  though  I  have  wived  his  sister.  She 
was  poor  enough  when  I  took  her,  for  as  high  as  Noll 
holds  his  head  now.' 

274 


WOODSTOCK 

'It  is  not  my  purpose,'  said  Bletson,  'to  stir  debate 
in  this  honourable  meeting;  and  no  one  will  doubt  the 
veneration  and  attachment  which  I  bear  to  our  noble 
General,  whom  the  current  of  events,  and  his  own  match- 
less qualities  of  courage  and  constancy,  have  raised  so 
high  in  these  deplorable  days.  If  I  were  to  term  him 
a  direct  and  immediate  emanation  of  the  Animus 
Mundi  itself  —  something  which  Nature  had  produced 
in  her  proudest  hour,  while  exerting  herself,  as  is  her  law, 
for  the  preservation  of  the  creatures  to  whom  she  has 
given  existence  —  I  should  scarce  exhaust  the  ideas 
which  I  entertain  of  him ;  always  protesting,  that  I  am  by 
no  means  to  be  held  as  admitting,  but  merely  as  grant- 
ing for  the  sake  of  argument,  the  possible  existence  of 
that  species  of  emanation  or  exhalation  from  the  Ani- 
mus Mundi  of  which  I  have  made  mention.  I  appeal  to 
you,  Colonel  Desborough,  who  are  his  Excellency's  rela- 
tion —  to  you,  Colonel  Everard,  who  hold  the  dearer  title 
of  his  friend,  whether  I  have  overrated  my  zeal  in  his 
behalf?' 

Everard  bowed  at  this  pause,  but  Desborough  gave  a 
more  complete  authentication.  'Nay,  I  can  bear  wit- 
ness to  that.  I  have  seen  when  you  were  wilUng  to  tie 
his  points  or  brush  his  cloak,  or  the  like;  and  to  b? 
treated  thus  ungratefully,  and  gudgeoned  of  the  oppor^ 
tunities  which  had  been  given  you  — ' 

'It  is  not  for  that,'  said  Bletson,  waving  his  hand 
gracefully.  'You  do  me  wrong,  Master  Desborough  — 
you  do  indeed,  kind  sir,  although  I  know  you  meant 
it  not.  No,  sir  —  no  partial  consideration  of  private 
interest  prevailed  on  me  to  undertake  this  charge.  It 
was  conferred  on  me  by  the  ParUament  of  England,  in 

275 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

whose  name  this  war  commenced,  and  by  the  Council 
of  State,  who  are  the  conservators  of  England's  liberty. 
And  the  chance  and  serene  hope  of  serving  the  country, 
the  confidence  that  I  —  and  you.  Master  Desborough, 
and  you,  worthy  General  Harrison  —  superior,  as  I  am, 
to  all  selfish  considerations  —  to  which  I  am  sure  you 
also,  good  Colonel  Everard,  would  be  superior,  had  you 
been  named  in  this  commission,  as  I  would  to  Heaven 
you  had  —  I  say  the  hope  of  serving  the  country,  with 
the  aid  of  such  respectable  associates,  one  and  all  of 
them  —  as  well  as  you.  Colonel  Everard,  supposing  you 
to  have  been  of  the  number  —  induced  me  to  accept  of 
this  opportunity,  whereby  I  might,  gratuitously,  with 
your  assistance,  render  so  much  advantage  to  our  dear 
mother  the  Commonwealth  of  England.  Such  was  my 
hope,  my  trust,  my  confidence.  And  now  comes  my 
Lord  General's  warrant  to  dissolve  the  authority  by 
which  we  are  entitled  to  act.  Gentlemen,  I  ask  this 
honourable  meeting  —  with  all  respect  to  his  Excellency 
—  whether  his  commission  be  paramount  to  that  from 
which  he  himself  directly  holds  his  commission?  No  one 
will  say  so.  I  ask  whether  he  has  climbed  into  the  seat 
from  which  the  late  Man  descended,  or  hath  a  great 
seal,  or  means  to  proceed  by  prerogative  in  such  a  case? 
I  cannot  see  reason  to  beheve  it,  and  therefore  I  must 
resist  such  doctrine.  I  am  in  your  judgment,  my  brave 
and  honourable  colleagues;  but,  touching  my  own  poor 
opinion,  I  feel  myself  under  the  unhappy  necessity  of 
proceeding  in  our  commission,  as  if  the  interruption 
had  not  taken  place;  with  this  addition,  that  the  Board 
of  Sequestrators  should  sit  by  day  at  this  same  lodge  of 
Woodstock,  but  that,  to  reconcile  the  minds  of  weak 

276 


WOODSTOCK 

brethren,  who  may  be  afflicted  by  superstitious  ru- 
mours, as  well  as  to  avoid  any  practice  on  our  persons  by 
the  Malignants,  who,  I  am  convinced,  are  busy  in  this 
neighbourhood,  we  should  remove  our  sittings  after  sun- 
set to  the  George  Inn,  in  the  neighbouring  borough.' 

'Good  Master  Bletson,'  replied  Colonel  Everard,  *it 
is  not  for  me  to  reply  to  you;  but  you  may  know  in 
what  characters  this  army  of  England  and  their  General 
write  their  authority.  I  fear  me  the  annotation  on  this 
precept  of  the  General  will  be  expressed  by  the  march 
of  a  troop  of  horse  from  Oxford  to  see  it  executed.  I  be- 
lieve there  are  orders  out  for  that  effect;  and  you  know 
by  late  experience  that  the  soldier  will  obey  his  General 
equally  against  King  and  Parliament.' 

'That  obedience  is  conditional,'  said  Harrison,  start- 
ing fiercely  up.  'Know'st  thou  not,  Markham  Everard, 
that  I  have  followed  the  man  Cromwell  as  close  as  the 
bull-dog  follows  his  master?  and  so  I  will  yet;  but  I  am 
no  spaniel,  either  to  be  beaten  or  to  have  the  food  I  have 
earned  snatched  from  me,  as  if  I  were  a  vile  cur,  whose 
wages  are  a  whipping  and  free  leave  to  wear  my  own 
skin.  I  looked,  amongst  the  three  of  us,  that  we  might 
honestly  and  piously,  and  with  advantage  to  the  Com- 
monwealth, have  gained  out  of  this  commission  three, 
or  it  may  be  five,  thousand  pounds.  And  does  Cromwell 
imagine  I  will  part  with  it  for  a  rough  word?  No  man 
goeth  a  warfare  on  his  own  charges.  He  that  serves  the 
altar  must  live  by  the  altar,  and  the  saints  must  have 
means  to  provide  them  with  good  harness  and  fresh 
horses  against  the  unsealing  and  the  pouring  forth. 
Does  Cromwell  think  I  am  so  much  of  a  tame  tiger  as  to 
permit  him  to  rend  from  me  at  pleasure  the  miserable 

277 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

dole  he  hath  thrown  me?  Of  a  surety  I  will  resist;  and 
the  men  who  are  here,  being  chiefly  of  my  own  regiment 
—  men  who  wait,  and  who  expect,  with  lamps  burning 
and  loins  girded,  and  each  one  his  weapon  bound  upon 
his  thigh  —  will  aid  me  to  make  this  house  good  against 
every  assault  —  ay,  even  against  Cromwell  himself, 
until  the  latter  coming.   Selah  —  Selah ! ' 

'And  I,'  said  Desborough,  'will  levy  troops  and  pro- 
tect your  out-quarters,  not  choosing  at  present  to  close 
myself  up  in  garrison  — ' 

'And  I,'  said  Bletson,  'will  do  my  part,  and  hie  me  to 
town  and  lay  the  matter  before  Parliament,  arising  in 
my  place  for  that  effect.' 

Everard  was  little  moved  by  all  these  threats.  The 
only  formidable  one,  indeed,  was  that  of  Harrison,  whose 
enthusiasm,  joined  with  his  courage,  and  obstinacy,  and 
character  among  the  fanatics  of  his  own  principles,  made 
him  a  dangerous  enemy.  Before  trying  any  arguments 
with  the  refractory  major-general,  Everard  endeavoured 
to  moderate  his  feelings,  and  threw  something  in  about 
the  late  disturbances. 

'Talk  not  to  me  of  supernatural  disturbances,  young 
man  —  talk  not  to  me  of  enemies  in  the  body  or  out  of 
the  body.  Am  I  not  the  champion  chosen  and  commis- 
sioned to  encounter  and  to  conquer  the  great  Dragon, 
and  the  Beast  which  cometh  out  of  the  sea?  Am  I  not  to 
command  the  left  wing  and  two  regiments  of  the  centre, 
when  the  saints  shall  encounter  with  the  countless 
legions  of  Gog  and  Magog?  I  tell  thee  that  my  name 
is  written  on  the  sea  of  glass  mingled  with  fire,  and  that 
I  will  keep  this  place  of  Woodstock  against  all  mortal 
men,  and  against  all  devils,  whether  in  field  or  chamber, 

278 


WOODSTOCK 

in  the  forest  or  in  the  meadow,  even  till  the  saints  reign 
in  the  fulness  of  their  glory ! ' 

Everard  saw  it  was  then  time  to  produce  two  or  three 
lines  under  Cromwell's  hand,  which  he  had  received 
from  the  General  subsequently  to  the  communication 
through  Wildrake.  The  information  they  contained 
was  calculated  to  allay  the  disappointment  of  the  Com- 
missioners. This  document  assigned  as  the  reason  of 
superseding  the  Woodstock  Commission,  that  he  should 
probably  propose  to  the  Parliament  to  require  the 
assistance  of  General  Harrison,  Colonel  Desborough, 
and  Master  Bletson,  the  honourable  member  for  Little- 
faith,  in  a  much  greater  matter,  namely,  the  disposing 
of  the  royal  property,  and  disparking  of  the  king's  forest, 
at  Windsor.  So  soon  as  this  idea  was  started,  all  parties 
pricked  up  their  ears;  and  their  drooping,  and  gloomy 
and  vindictive,  looks  began  to  give  place  to  courteous 
smiles,  and  to  a  cheerfulness  which  laughed  in  their 
eyes  and  turned  their  mustaches  upwards. 

Colonel  Desborough  acquitted  his  right  honourable 
and  excellent  cousin  and  kinsman  of  all  species  of  un- 
kindness;  Master  Bletson  discovered  that  the  interest  of 
the  state  was  trebly  concerned  in  the  good  administra- 
tion of  Windsor  more  than  in  that  of  Woodstock ;  as  for 
Harrison,  he  exclaimed,  without  disguise  or  hesitation, 
that  the  gleaning  of  the  grapes  of  Windsor  was  better 
than  the  vintage  of  Woodstock.  Thus  speaking,  the 
glance  of  his  dark  eye  expressed  as  much  triumph  in  the 
proposed  earthly  advantage  as  if  it  had  not  been,  ac- 
cording to  his  vain  persuasion,  to  be  shortly  exchanged 
for  his  share  in  the  general  reign  of  the  millennium.  His 
delight,  in  short,  resembled  the  joy  of  an  eagle,  who  preys 

279 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

upon  a  lamb  in  the  evening  with  not  the  less  relish  be- 
cause she  descries  in  the  distant  landscape  an  hundred 
thousand  men  about  to  join  battle  with  daybreak,  and 
to  give  her  an  endless  feast  on  the  hearts  and  Hf e-blood 
of  the  valiant. 

Yet,  though  all  agreed  that  they  would  be  obedient  to 
the  General's  pleasure  in  this  matter,  Bletson  proposed, 
as  a  precautionary  measure,  in  which  all  agreed,  that 
they  should  take  up  their  abode  for  some  time  in  the 
town  of  Woodstock,  to  wait  for  their  new  commissions 
respecting  Windsor;  and  this  upon  the  prudential  con- 
sideration, that  it  was  best  not  to  slip  one  knot  until 
another  was  first  tied. 

Each  commissioner,  therefore,  wrote  to  Oliver  indi- 
vidually, stating,  in  his  own  way,  the  depth  and  height, 
length  and  breadth,  of  his  attachment  to  him.  Each 
expressed  himself  resolved  to  obey  the  General's  injunc- 
tions to  the  uttermost;  but  with  the  same  scrupulous 
devotion  to  the  Parliament,  each  found  himself  at  a  loss 
how  to  lay  down  the  commission  entrusted  to  them  by 
that  body,  and  therefore  felt  bound  in  conscience  to  take 
up  his  residence  at  the  borough  of  Woodstock,  that  he 
might  not  seem  to  abandon  the  charge  committed  to 
them  until  they  should  be  called  to  administrate  the 
weightier  matter  of  Windsor,  to  which  they  expressed 
their  willingness  instantly  to  devote  themselves,  accord- 
ing to  his  Excellency's  pleasure. 

This  was  the  general  style  of  their  letters,  varied  by 
the  characteristic  flourishes  of  the  writers.  Desborough, 
for  example,  said  something  about  the  religious  duty  of 
providing  for  one's  own  household,  only  he  blundered 
the  text;  Bletson  wrote  long  and  big  words  about  the 

280 


WOODSTOCK 

political  obligation  incumbent  on  every  member  of  the 
community,  on  every  person,  to  sacrifice  his  time  and 
talents  to  the  service  of  his  country;  while  Harrison 
talked  of  the  littleness  of  present  affairs,  in  comparison 
of  the  approaching  tremendous  change  of  all  things 
beneath  the  sun.  But  although  the  garnishing  of  the 
various  epistles  was  different,  the  result  came  to  the 
same,  that  they  were  determined  at  least  to  keep  sight 
of  Woodstock  until  they  were  well  assured  of  some 
better  and  more  profitable  commission. 

Everard  also  wrote  a  letter  in  the  most  grateful  terms 
to  Cromwell,  which  would  probably  have  been  less  warm 
had  he  known  more  distinctly  than  his  follower  chose  to 
tell  him  the  expectation  under  which  the  wily  General 
had  granted  his  request.  He  acquainted  his  Excellency 
with  his  purpose  of  continuing  at  Woodstock,  partly  to 
assure  himself  of  the  motions  of  the  three  Commission- 
ers, and  to  watch  whether  they  did  not  again  enter  upon 
the  execution  of  the  trust  which  they  had  for  the  present 
renounced;  and  partly  to  see  that  some  extraordinary 
circumstances  which  had  taken  place  in  the  lodge,  and 
which  would  doubtless  transpire,  were  not  followed  by 
any  explosion  to  the  disturbance  of  the  public  peace. 
He  knew,  as  he  expressed  himself,  that  his  Excellency 
was  so  much  the  friend  of  order,  that  he  would  rather 
disturbances  or  insurrections  were  prevented  than  pun- 
ished ;  and  he  conjured  the  General  to  repose  confidence 
in  his  exertions  for  the  public  service  by  every  mode 
within  his  power,  not  aware,  it  will  be  observed,  in  what 
peculiar  sense  his  general  pledge  might  be  interpreted. 

These  letters,  being  made  up  into  a  packet,  were  for- 
warded to  Windsor  by  a  trooper,  detached  on  that  errand. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

V>'e  do  that  in  our  zeal 

Our  calmer  moments  are  afraid  to  answer. 

Anonymous, 

While  the  Commissioners  were  preparing  to  remove 
themselves  from  the  lodge  to  the  inn  at  the  borough  of 
Woodstock,  with  all  that  state  and  bustle  which  attend 
the  movements  of  great  persons,  and  especially  of  such 
to  whom  greatness  is  not  entirely  familiar,  Everard  held 
some  colloquy  with  the  Presbyterian  clergyman.  Master 
Holdenough,  who  had  issued  from  the  apartment  which 
he  had  occupied,  as  it  were  in  defiance  of  the  spirits  by 
whom  the  mansion  was  supposed  to  be  disturbed,  and 
whose  pale  cheek  and  pensive  brow  gave  token  that  he 
had  not  passed  the  night  more  comfortably  than  the 
other  inmates  of  the  lodge  of  Woodstock.  Colonel 
Everard  having  offered  to  procure  the  reverend  gentle- 
man some  refreshment,  received  this  reply:  'This  day 
shall  I  not  taste  food,  saving  that  which  we  are  assured 
of  as  sufficient  for  our  sustenance,  where  it  is  promised 
that  our  bread  shall  be  given  us  and  our  water  shall  be 
sure.  Not  that  I  fast  in  the  Papistical  opinion  that  it 
adds  to  those  merits  which  are  but  an  accumulation  of 
filthy  rags;  but  because  I  hold  it  needful  that  no  grosser 
sustenance  should  this  day  cloud  my  understanding,  or 
render  less  pure  and  vivid  the  thanks  I  owe  to  Heaven 
for  a  most  wonderful  preservation.' 

'Master  Holdenough,'  said  Everard,  'you  are,  I  know, 
both  a  good  man  and  a  bold  one,  and  I  saw  you  last 

282 


WOODSTOCK 

night  courageously  go  upon  your  sacred  duty,  when 
soldiers,  and  tried  ones,  seemed  considerably  alarmed.' 

'  Too  courageous  —  too  venturous,'  was  Master  Hold- 
enough's  reply,  the  boldness  of  whose  aspect  seemed 
completely  to  have  died  away.  'We  are  frail  creatures. 
Master  Everard,  and  frailest  when  we  think  ourselves 
strongest.  Oh,  Colonel  Everard,'  he  added,  after  a  pause, 
and  as  if  the  confidence  was  partly  involuntary,  *  I  have 
seen  that  which  I  shall  never  survive ! ' 

'You  surprise  me,  reverend  sir,'  said  Everard;  'may 
I  request  you  will  speak  more  plainly?  I  have  heard 
some  stories  of  this  wild  night,  nay,  have  witnessed 
strange  things  myself;  but,  methinks,  I  would  be  much 
interested  in  knowing  the  nature  of  your  disturbance.' 

'Sir,'  said  the  clergyman,  'you  are  a  discreet  gentle- 
man; and  though  I  would  not  willingly  that  these  here- 
tics, schismatics,  Brownists,  Muggletonians,  Anabap- 
tists, and  so  forth,  had  such  an  opportunity  of  triumph 
as  my  defeat  in  this  matter  would  have  afforded  them, 
yet  with  you,  who  have  been  ever  a  faithful  follower  of 
our  church,  and  are  pledged  to  the  good  cause  by  the 
great  National  League  and  Covenant,  surely  I  would  be 
more  open.  Sit  we  down,  therefore,  and  let  me  call  for  a 
glass  of  pure  water,  for  as  yet  I  feel  some  bodily  falter- 
ing; though,  I  thank  Heaven,  I  am  in  mind  resolute  and 
composed  as  a  merely  mortal  man  may  after  such  a 
vision.  They  say,  worthy  colonel,  that  looking  on  such 
things  foretells,  or  causes,  speedy  death.  I  know  not  if 
it  be  true;  but  if  so,  I  only  depart  Hke  the  tired  sentinel 
when  his  officer  releases  him  from  his  post;  and  glad  shall 
I  be  to  close  these  wearied  eyes  against  the  sight,  and 
shut  these  harassed  ears  against  the  croaking,  as  of 

283 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

frogs,  of  Antinomians,  and  Pelagians,  and  Socinians,  and 
Arminians,  and  Arians,  and  Nullifidians,  which  have 
come  up  into  our  England  like  those  filthy  reptiles  into 
the  house  of  Pharaoh.' 

Here  one  of  the  servants  who  had  been  summoned 
entered  with  a  cup  of  water,  gazing  at  the  same  time  in 
the  face  of  the  clergyman,  as  if  his  stupid  grey  eyes  were 
endeavouring  to  read  what  tragic  tale  was  written  on  his 
brow;  and  shaking  his  empty  skull  as  he  left  the  room, 
with  the  air  of  one  who  was  proud  of  having  discovered 
that  all  was  not  exactly  right,  though  he  could  not  so 
well  guess  what  was  wrong. 

Colonel  Everard  invited  the  good  man  to  take  some 
refreshment  more  genial  than  the  pure  element,  but  he 
declined.  'I  am  in  some  sort  a  champion,'  he  said;  'and 
though  I  have  been  foiled  in  the  late  controversy  with 
the  enemy,  still  I  have  my  trumpet  to  give  the  alarm, 
and  my  sharp  sword  to  smite  withal ;  therefore,  like  the 
Nazarites  of  old,  I  will  eat  nothing  that  cometh  of  the 
vine,  neither  drink  wine  nor  strong  drink,  until  these  my 
days  of  combat  shall  have  passed  away,' 

Kindly  and  respectfully  the  colonel  anew  pressed 
Master  Holdenough  to  communicate  the  events  that 
had  befallen  him  on  the  preceding  night;  and  the  good 
clergyman  proceeded  as  follows,  with  that  little  charac- 
teristical  touch  of  vanity  in  his  narrative  which  naturally 
arose  out  of  the  part  he  had  played  in  the  world,  and  the 
influence  which  he  had  exercised  over  the  minds  of 
others.  *I  was  a  young  man  at  the  University  of  Cam- 
bridge,' he  said,  'when  I  was  particularly  bound  in 
friendship  to  a  fellow-student,  perhaps  because  we  were 
esteemed,  though  it  is  vain  to  mention  it,  the  most  hope- 

284 


WOODSTOCK 

ful  scholars  at  our  college,  and  so  equally  advanced,  that 
it  was  difficult,  perhaps,  to  say  which  was  the  greater 
proficient  in  his  studies.  Only  our  tutor,  Master  Pure- 
foy,  used  to  say  that,  if  my  comrade  had  the  advantage 
of  me  in  gifts,  I  had  the  better  of  him  in  grace ;  for  he  was 
attached  to  the  profane  learning  of  the  classics,  always 
unprofitable,  often  impious  and  impure,  and  I  had  hght 
enough  to  turn  my  studies  into  the  sacred  tongues.  Also 
we  differed  in  our  opinions  touching  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land, for  he  held  Arminian  opinions,  with  Laud,  and 
those  who  would  connect  our  ecclesiastical  estabhsh- 
ment  with  the  civil,  and  make  the  church  dependent  on 
the  breath  of  an  earthly  man.  In  fine,  he  favoured  Pre- 
lacy both  in  essentials  and  ceremonial ;  and  although  we 
parted  with  tears  and  embraces,  it  was  to  follow  very 
different  courses.  He  obtained  a  liv-ing,  and  became  a 
great  controversial  writer  in  behalf  of  the  bishops  and  of 
the  court.  I  also,  as  is  well  known  to  you,  to  the  best  of 
my  poor  abilities,  sharpened  my  pen  in  the  cause  of  the 
poor  oppressed  people,  whose  tender  consciences  re- 
jected the  rites  and  ceremonies  more  befitting  a  Papisti- 
cal than  a  Reformed  church,  and  which,  according  to 
the  blinded  policy  of  the  court,  were  enforced  by  pains 
and  penalties.  Then  came  the  Civil  War,  and  I  —  called 
thexeunto  by  my  conscience,  and  nothing  fearing  or  sus- 
pecting what  miserable  consequences  have  chanced, 
through  the  rise  of  these  Independents  —  consented  to 
lend  my  countenance  and  labour  to  the  great  work,  by 
becoming  chaplain  to  Colonel  Harrison's  regiment.  Not 
that  I  mingled  with  carnal  weapons  in  the  field  —  which 
Heaven  forbid  that  a  minister  of  the  alLar  should  —  but  I 
preached,  exhorted,  and,  in  time  of  need,  was  a  surgeon, 

285 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

as  well  to  the  wounds  of  the  body  as  of  the  soul.  Now, 
it  fell,  towards  the  end  of  the  war,  that  a  party  of  Malig- 
nants  had  seized  on  a  strong  house  in  the  shire  of  Shrews- 
bury, situated  on  a  small  island,  advanced  into  a  lake, 
and  accessible  only  by  a  small  and  narrow  causeway. 
From  thence  they  made  excursions,  and  vexed  the  coun- 
try; and  high  time  it  was  to  suppress  them,  so  that  a 
part  of  our  regiment  went  to  reduce  them;  and  I  was 
requested  to  go,  for  they  were  few  in  number  to  take  in 
so  strong  a  place,  and  the  colonel  judged  that  my  exhort- 
ations would  make  them  do  vaUantly.  And  so,  con- 
trary to  my  wont,  I  went  forth  with  them,  even  to  the 
field,  where  there  was  vaUant  fighting  on  both  sides. 
Nevertheless,  the  Mahgnants,  shooting  their  wall-pieces 
at  us,  had  so  much  the  advantage,  that,  after  bursting 
their  gates  with  a  salvo  of  our  cannon,  Colonel  Harrison 
ordered  his  men  to  advance  on  the  causeway,  and  try  to 
carry  the  place  by  storm.  Natheless,  although  our  men 
did  valiantly,  advancing  in  good  order,  yet  being  galled 
on  every  side  by  the  fire,  they  at  length  fell  into  disorder, 
and  were  retreating  with  much  loss,  Harrison  himself 
vaHantly  bringing  up  the  rear,  and  defending  them  as 
he  could  against  the  enemy,  who  sallied  forth  in  pursuit 
of  them,  to  smite  them  hip  and  thigh.  Now,  Colonel 
Everard,  I  am  a  man  of  a  quick  and  vehement  temper  by 
nature,  though  better  teaching  than  the  old  law  hath 
made  me  mild  and  patient  as  you  now  see  me.  I  could 
not  bear  to  see  our  IsraeHtes  flying  before  the  PhiHstines, 
so  I  rushed  upon  the  causeway,  with  the  Bible  in  one 
hand  and  a  halberd,  which  I  had  caught  up,  in  the  other, 
and  turned  back  the  foremost  fugitives  by  threatening 
to  strike  them  down,  pointing  out  to  them  at  the  same 

286 


WOODSTOCK 

time  a  priest  in  his  cassock,  as  they  call  it,  who  was 
among  the  Malignants,  and  asking  them  whether  they 
would  not  do  as  much  for  a  true  servant  of  Heaven  as 
the  uncircumcised  would  for  a  priest  of  Baal.  My  words 
and  strokes  prevailed :  they  turned  at  once,  and  shouting 
out,  "Down  with  Baal  and  his  worshippers!"  they 
charged  the  MaHgnants  so  unexpectedly  home,  that 
they  not  only  drove  them  back  into  their  house  of  garri- 
son, but  entered  it  with  them,  as  the  phrase  is,  pell-mell. 
I  also  was  there,  partly  hurried  on  by  the  crowd,  partly 
to  prevail  on  our  enraged  soldiers  to  give  quarter;  for  it 
grieved  my  heart  to  see  Christians  and  EngHshmen 
hashed  down  with  swords  and  gunstocks,  like  curs  in  the 
street  when  there  is  an  alarm  of  mad  dogs.  In  this  way, 
the  soldiers  fighting  and  slaughtering,  and  I  calHng  to 
them  to  stay  their  hand,  we  gained  the  very  roof  of  the 
building,  which  was  in  part  leaded,  and  to  which,  as  a 
last  tower  of  refuge,  those  of  the  Cavaliers  who  yet 
escaped  had  retired.  I  was  myself,  I  may  say,  forced  up 
the  narrow  winding  staircase  by  our  soldiers,  who  rushed 
on  hkc  dogs  of  chase  upon  their  prey;  and  when  extri- 
cated from  the  passage,  I  found  myself  in  the  midst  of  a 
horrid  scene.  The  scattered  defenders  were,  some  resist- 
ing with  the  fury  of  despair,  some  on  their  knees,  implor- 
ing for  compassion  in  words  and  tones  to  break  a  man's 
heart  when  he  thinks  on  them ;  some  were  calUng  on  God 
for  mercy  —  and  it  was  time,  for  man  had  none.  They 
were  stricken  down,  thrust  through,  flung  from  the 
battlements  into  the  lake;  and  the- wild  cries  of  the 
victors,  mingled  with  the  groans,  shrieks,  and  clamours 
of  the  vanquished,  made  a  sound  so  horrible,  that  only 
death  can  erase  it  from  my  memory.  And  the  men 

287 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

who  butchered  their  fellow-creatures  thus  were  neither 
pagans  from  distant  savage  lands,  nor  ruffians,  the  re- 
fuse and  offscourings  of  our  own  people.  They  were  in 
calm  blood  reasonable,  nay,  religious,  men,  maintain- 
ing a  fair  repute  both  heavenward  and  earthward.  Oh, 
Master  Everard,  your  trade  of  war  should  be  feared  and 
avoided,  since  it  converts  such  men  into  wolves  towards 
their  fellow-creatures ! ' 

'It  is  a  stern  necessity,'  said  Everard,  looking  down, 
'and  as  such  alone  is  justifiable.  But  proceed,  reverend 
sir;  I  see  not  how  this  storm,  an  incident  but  e'en  too 
frequent  on  both  sides  during  the  late  war,  connects  with 
the  affair  of  last  night.' 

'You  shall  hear  anon,'  said  Mr.  Holdenough;  then 
paused,  as  one  who  makes  an  effort  to  compose  himself 
before  continuing  a  relation  the  tenor  of  which  agitated 
him  with  much  violence.  'In  this  infernal  tumult,'  he 
resumed  —  '  for  surely  nothing  on  earth  could  so  much 
resemble  Hell  as  when  men  go  thus  loose  in  mortal 
malice  on  their  fellow-creatures  —  I  saw  the  same  priest 
whom  I  had  distinguished  on  the  causeway,  with  one  or 
two  other  Malignants,  pressed  into  a  corner  by  the  as- 
sailants, and  defending  themselves  to  the  last,  as  those 
who  had  no  hope.  I  saw  him  —  I  knew  him  —  oh, 
Colonel  Everard ! ' 

He  grasped  Everard's  hand  with  his  own  left  hand, 
and  pressed  the  palm  of  his  right  to  his  face  and  fore- 
head, sobbing  aloud. 

'It  was  your  college  companion?'  said  Everard,  an- 
ticipating the  catastrophe. 

'  Mine  ancient  —  mine  only  friend,  with  whom  I  had 
spent  the  happy  days  of  youth!  I  rushed  forward  —  I 

288 


WOODSTOCK 

struggled  —  I  entreated.  But  my  eagerness  left  me 
neither  voice  nor  language:  all  was  drowned  in  the 
wretched  cry  which  I  had  myself  raised.  ''Down  with 
the  priest  of  Baal.  Slay  Mattan  —  slay  him  were  he 
between  the  altars!"  Forced  over  the  battlements,  but 
struggling  for  life,  I  could  see  him  cUng  to  one  of  those 
projections  which  were  formed  to  carry  the  water  from 
the  leads;  but  they  hacked  at  his  arms  and  hands.  I 
heard  the  heavy  fall  into  the  bottomless  abyss  below. 
Excuse  me;  I  cannot  go  on!' 

*He  may  have  escaped?' 

*0h!  no  —  no  —  no,  the  tower  was  four  stories  in 
height.  Even  those  who  threw  themselves  into  the  lake 
from  the  lower  windows,  to  escape  by  swimming,  had  no 
safety;  for  mounted  troopers  on  the  shore  caught  the 
same  bloodthirsty  humour  which  had  seized  the  storm- 
ing-party,  galloped  around  the  margin  of  the  lake,  and 
shot  those  who  were  struggling  for  life  in  the  water,  or 
cut  them  down  as  they  strove  to  get  to  land.  They  were 
all  cut  off  and  destroyed.  Oh!  may  the  blood  shed  on 
that  day  remain  silent !  Oh !  that  the  earth  may  receive 
it  in  her  recesses!  Oh!  that  it  may  be  mingled  for  ever 
with  the  dark  waters  of  that  lake,  so  that  it  may  never 
cry  for  vengeance  against  those  whose  anger  was  fierce, 
and  who  slaughtered  in  their  wrath  1  And,  oh !  may  the 
erring  man  be  forgiven  who  came  into  their  assembly, 
and  lent  his  voice  to  encourage  their  cruelty!  Oh! 
Albany,  my  brother  —  my  brother,  I  have  lamented 
thee  even  as  David  for  Jonathan!'  ^ 

The  good  man  sobbed  aloud,  and  so  much  did  Colonel 
Everard  sympathise  with  his  emotions,  that  he  forebore 
^  See  Note  3. 
37  289 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

to  press  him  upon  the  subject  of  his  own  curiosity  until 
the  full  tide  of  remorseful  passion  had  for  the  time 
abated.  It  was,  however,  fierce  and  agitating,  the  more 
so,  perhaps,  that  indulgence  in  strong  mental  feeling  of 
any  kind  was  foreign  to  the  severe  and  ascetic  character 
of  the  man,  and  was  therefore  the  more  overpowering 
when  it  had  at  once  surmounted  all  restraints.  Large 
tears  flowed  down  the  trembling  features  of  his  thin,  and 
usually  stern,  or  at  least  austere,  countenance;  he  eag- 
erly returned  the  compression  of  Everard's  hand,  as  if 
thankful  for  the  sympathy  which  the  caress  implied. 

Presently  after.  Master  Holdenough  wiped  his  eyes, 
withdrew  his  hand  gently  from  that  of  Everard,  shaking 
it  kindly  as  they  parted,  and  proceeded  with  more  com- 
posure: 'Forgive  me  this  burst  of  passionate  feeling, 
worthy  colonel.  I  am  conscious  it  little  becomes  a  man 
of  my  cloth,  who  should  be  the  bearer  of  consolation  to 
others,  to  give  way  in  mine  own  person  to  an  extremity 
of  grief,  weak  at  least,  if  indeed  it  is  not  sinful;  for  what 
are  we,  that  we  should  weep  and  murmur  touching  that 
which  is  permitted?  But  Albany  was  to  me  as  a  brother. 
The  happiest  days  of  my  life,  ere  my  call  to  mingle  my- 
self in  the  strife  of  the  land  had  awakened  me  to  my 
duties,  were  spent  in  his  company.  I  —  but  I  will  make 
the  rest  of  my  story  short.'  Here  he  drew  his  chair  close 
to  that  of  Everard,  and  spoke  in  a  solemn  and  mysteri- 
ous tone  of  voice,  almost  lowered  to  a  whisper  —  'I  saw 
him  last  night.' 

'  Saw  him  —  saw  whom? '  said  Everard.  '  Can  you 
mean  the  person  whom  — ' 

'Whom  I  saw  so  ruthlessly  slaughtered,'  said  the 
clergyman — 'my  ancient  college-friend,  Joseph  Albany.' 

290 


WOODSTOCK 

'Master  Holdenough,  your  cloth  and  your  character 
alike  must  prevent  your  jesting  on  such  a  subject  as 
this.' 

*  Jesting ! '  answered  Holdenough ; '  I  would  as  soon  jest 
on  my  death-bed  —  as  soon  jest  upon  the  Bible.' 

'But  you  must  have  been  deceived,'  answered  Ever- 
ard,  hastily;  *  this  tragical  story  necessarily  often  returns 
to  your  mind,  and  in  moments  when  the  imagination 
overcomes  the  evidence  of  the  outward  senses,  your 
fancy  must  have  presented  to  you  an  unreal  appearance. 
Nothing  more  hkely,  when  the  mind  is  on  the  stretch 
after  something  supernatural,  than  that  the  imagination 
should  supply  the  place  with  a  chimera,  while  the  over- 
excited feelings  render  it  difficult  to  dispel  the  delusion.' 

'Colonel  Everard,'  replied  Holdenough,  with  auster- 
ity, 'in  discharge  of  my  duty  I  must  not  fear  the  face  of 
man;  and,  therefore,  I  tell  you  plainly,  as  I  have  done 
before  with  more  observance,  that  when  you  bring  your 
carnal  learning  and  judgment,  as  it  is  but  too  much  your 
nature  to  do,  to  investigate  the  hidden  things  of  another 
world,  you  might  as  well  measure  with  the  palm  of  your 
hand  the  waters  of  the  Isis.  Indeed,  good  sir,  you  err  in 
this,  and  give  men  too  much  pretence  to  confound  your 
honourable  name  with  witch-advocates,  freethinkers, 
and  atheists,  even  with  such  as  this  man  Bletson,  who, 
if  the  disciphne  of  the  church  had  its  hand  strengthened, 
as  it  was  in  the  beginning  of  the  great  conflict,  would 
have  been  long  ere  now  cast  out  of  the  pale,  and  de- 
livered over  to  the  punishment  of  the  flesh,  that  his 
spirit  might,  if  possible,  be  yet  saved.' 

'You  mistake,  Master  Holdenough,'  said  Colonel 
Everard:  'I  do  not  deny  the  existence  of  such  preter- 

291 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

natural  visitations,  because  I  cannot,  and  dare  not,  raise 
the  voice  of  my  own  opinion  against  the  testimony  of 
ages,  supported  by  such  learned  men  as  yourself.  Nev- 
ertheless, though  I  grant  the  possibility  of  such  things, 
I  have  scarce  yet  heard  of  an  instance  in  my  days  so  well 
fortified  by  evidence  that  I  could  at  once  and  distinctly 
say,  "This  must  have  happened  by  supernatural  agency, 
and  not  otherwise.'" 

'Hear,  then,  what  I  have  to  tell,'  said  the  divine,  'on 
the  faith  of  a  man,  a  Christian,  and,  what  is  more,  a  serv- 
ant of  our  Holy  Church ;  and  therefore,  though  unworthy, 
an  elder  and  a  teacher  among  Christians.  I  had  taken 
my  post  yester  evening  in  the  half-furnished  apart- 
ment wherein  hangs  a  huge  mirror,  which  might  have 
served  GoHath  of  Gath  to  have  admired  himself  in,  when 
clothed  from  head  to  foot  in  his  brazen  armour.  I  the 
rather  chose  this  place,  because  they  informed  me  it  was 
the  nearest  habitable  room  to  the  gallery  in  which  they 
say  you  had  been  yourself  assailed  that  evening  by  the 
Evil  One.  Was  it  so,  I  pray  you?' 

*  By  some  one  with  no  good  intentions  I  was  assailed 
in  that  apartment.  So  far,'  said  Colonel  Everard,  'you 
were  correctly  informed.' 

'Well,  I  chose  my  post  as  well  as  I  might,  even  as  a 
resolved  general  approaches  his  camp,  and  casts  up  his 
mound  as  nearly  as  he  can  to  the  besieged  city.  And,  of 
a  truth,  Colonel  Everard,  if  I  felt  some  sensation  of 
bodily  fear  —  for  even  Elias  and  the  prophets,  who  com- 
manded the  elements,  had  a  portion  in  our  frail  nature, 
much  more  such  a  poor  sinful  being  as  myself  —  yet  was 
my  hope  and  my  courage  high;  and  I  thought  of  the 
texts  which  I  might  use,  not  in  the  wicked  sense  of  peri- 

292 


WOODSTOCK 

apts,  or  spells,  as  the  blinded  Papists  employ  them,  to- 
gether with  the  sign  of  the  cross  and  other  fruitless 
forms,  but  as  nourishing  and  supporting  that  true  trust 
and  confidence  in  the  blessed  promises,  being  the  true 
shield  of  faith  wherewith  the  fiery  darts  of  Satan  may  be 
withstood  and  quenched.  And  thus  armed  and  prepared 
I  sate  me  down  to  read,  at  the  same  time  to  write,  that 
I  might  compel  my  mind  to  attend  to  those  subjects 
which  became  the  situation  in  which  I  was  placed,  as 
preventing  any  unlicensed  excursions  of  the  fancy,  and 
leaving  no  room  for  my  imagination  to  brood  over  idle 
fears.  So  I  methodised,  and  wrote  down  what  I  thought 
meet  for  the  time,  and  peradventure  some  hungry  souls 
may  yet  profit  by  the  food  which  I  then  prepared.' 

*  It  was  wisely  and  worthily  done,  good  and  reverend 
sir,'  replied  Colonel  Everard;  'I  pray  you  to  proceed.' 

'While  I  was  thus  employed,  sir,  and  had  been  upon 
the  matter  for  about  three  hours,  not  yielding  to  weari- 
ness, a  strange  thriUing  came  over  my  senses,  and  the 
large  and  old-fashioned  apartment  seemed  to  wax 
larger,  more  gloomy,  and  more  cavernous,  while  the  air 
of  the  night  grew  more  cold  and  chill:  I  know  not  if  it  was 
that  the  fire  began  to  decay,  or  whether  there  cometh 
before  such  things  as  were  then  about  to  happen  a 
breath  and  atmosphere,  as  it  were,  of  terror,  as  Job 
saith  in  a  well-known  passage,  "Fear  came  upon  me, 
and  trembling,  which  made  my  bones  to  shake";  and 
there  was  a  tingling  noise  in  my  ears,  and  a  dizziness  in 
my  brain,  so  that  I  felt  like  those  who  call  for  aid  when 
there  is  no  danger,  and  was  even  prompted  to  flee,  when  I 
saw  no  one  to  pursue.  It  was  then  that  something  seemed 
to  pass  behind  me,  casting  a  reflection  on  the  great  mirror 

293 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

before  which  I  had  placed  my  writing-table,  and  which 
I  saw  by  assistance  of  the  large  standing  light  which 
was  then  in  front  of  the  glass.  And  I  looked  up,  and  I 
saw  in  the  glass  distinctly  the  appearance  of  a  man;  as 
sure  as  these  words  issue  from  my  mouth,  it  was  no  other 
than  the  same  Joseph  Albany  —  the  companion  of  my 
youth  —  he  whom  I  had  seen  precipitated  down  the 
battlements  of  Clidesthrough  Castle  into  the  deep  lake 
below!' 

'What  did  you  do?' 

*It  suddenly  rushed  on  my  mind,'  said  the  divine, 
*that  the  stoical  philosopher  Athenodorus  had  eluded 
the  horrors  of  such  a  vision  by  patiently  pursuing  his 
studies;  and  it  shot  at  the  same  time  across  my  mind  that 
I,  a  Christian  divine,  and  a  steward  of  the  Mysteries, 
had  less  reason  to  fear  evil,  and  better  matter  on  which 
to  employ  my  thoughts,  than  was  possessed  by  a 
heathen,  who  was  blinded  even  by  his  own  wisdom.  So, 
instead  of  betraying  any  alarm,  or  even  turning  my 
head  around,  I  pursued  my  writing,  but  with  a  beat- 
ing heart,  I  admit,  and  with  a  throbbing  hand.' 

*If  you  could  write  at  all,'  said  the  colonel,  'with 
such  an  impression  on  your  mind,  you  may  take  the 
head  of  the  English  army  for  dauntless  resolution.' 

'Our  courage  is  not  our  own,  colonel,'  said  the  divine, 
and  not  as  ours  should  it  be  vaunted  of.  And  again, 
when  you  speak  of  this  strange  vision  as  an  impression 
on  my  fancy,  and  not  a  reality  obvious  to  my  senses,  let 
me  tell  you  once  more,  your  worldly  wisdom  is  but  fool- 
ishness touching  the  things  that  are  not  worldly.' 

'Did  you  not  look  again  upon  the  mirror?'  said  the 
colonel. 

294 


WOODSTOCK 

*I  did,  when  I  had  copied  out  the  comfortable  text, 
"Thou  shalt  tread  down  Satan  under  thy  feet.'" 

'And  what  did  you  then  see?' 

'The  reflection  of  the  same  Joseph  Albany,'  said 
Holdenough,  'passing  slowly  as  from  behind  my  chair, 
the  same  in  member  and  lineament  that  I  had  known 
him  in  his  youth,  excepting  that  his  cheek  had  the  marks 
of  the  more  advanced  age  at  which  he  died,  and  was  very 
pale.' 

'What  did  you  then?' 

'I  turned  from  the  glass,  and  plainly  saw  the  figure 
which  had  made  the  reflection  in  the  mirror  retreating 
towards  the  door,  not  fast,  nor  slow,  but  with  a  gliding, 
steady  pace.  It  turned  again  when  near  the  door,  and 
again  showed  me  its  pale,  ghastly  countenance,  before  it 
disappeared.  But  how  it  left  the  room,  whether  by  the 
door  or  otherwise,  my  spirits  were  too  much  hurried  to 
remark  exactly;  nor  have  I  been  able,  by  any  effort  of 
recollection,  distinctly  to  remember.' 

'This  is  a  strange,  and,  as  coming  from  you,  a  most 
excellently  well-attested  apparition,'  answered  Everard. 
*  And  yet.  Master  Holdenough,  if  the  other  world  has 
been  actually  displayed,  as  you  apprehend,  and  I  will 
not  dispute  the  possibility,  assure  yourself  there  are 
also  wicked  men  concerned  in  these  machinations.  I 
myself  have  undergone  some  rencontres  with  visitants 
who  possessed  bodily  strength,  and  wore,  I  am  sure, 
earthly  weapons.' 

'Oh!  doubtless  —  doubtless,'  replied  Master  Hold- 
enough:  'Beelzebub  loves  to  charge  with  horse  and  foot 
mingled,  as  was  the  fashion  of  the  old  Scottish  general, 
Davie  Leslie.   He  has  his  devils  in  the  body  as  well  as 

295 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

his  devils  disembodied,  and  uses  the  one  to  support  and 
back  the  other.' 

'It  maybe  as  you  say,  reverend  sir,'  answered  the 
colonel.   *  But  what  do  you  advise  in  this  case? ' 

'For  that  I  must  consult  with  my  brethren,'  said  the 
divine ; '  and  if  there  be  but  left  in  our  borders  five  minis- 
ters of  the  true  kirk,  we  will  charge  Satan  in  full  body, 
and  you  shall  see  whether  we  have  not  power  over  him 
to  resist  till  he  shall  flee  from  us.  But  failing  that  ghostly 
armament  against  these  strange  and  unearthly  enemies, 
truly  I  would  recommend  that,  as  a  house  of  witch- 
craft and  abomination,  this  polluted  den  of  ancient 
tyranny  and  prostitution  should  be  totally  consumed  by 
fire,  lest  Satan,  establishing  his  headquarters  so  much 
to  his  mind,  should  find  a  garrison  and  a  fastness  from 
which  he  might  sally  forth  to  infest  the  whole  neigh- 
bourhood. Certain  it  is,  that  I  would  recommend  to 
no  Christian  soul  to  inhabit  the  mansion;  and,  if  desert- 
ed, it  would  become  a  place  for  wizards  to  play  their 
pranks,  and  witches  to  establish  their  Sabbath,  and 
those  who,  like  Demas,  go  about  after  the  wealth  of  this 
world,  seeking  for  gold  and  silver,  to  practise  spells 
and  charms  to  the  prejudice  of  the  souls  of  the  covet- 
ous. Trust  me,  therefore,  it  were  better  that  it  were 
spoiled  and  broken  down,  not  leaving  one  stone  upon 
another.' 

'I  say  nay  to  that,  my  good  friend,'  said  the  colonel; 
*for  the  Lord  General  hath  permitted,  by  his  license, 
my  mother's  brother,  Sir  Henry  Lee,  and  his  family,  to 
return  into  the  house  of  his  fathers,  being  indeed  the 
only  roof  under  which  he  hath  any  chance  of  obtaining 
shelter  for  his  grey  hairs.' 

296 


WOODSTOCK 

*And  was  this  done  by  your  advice,  Markham  Ever- 
ard?'  said  the  divine,  austerely. 

'Certainly  it  was,'  returned  the  colonel.  *And  where- 
fore should  I  not  exert  mine  influence  to  obtain  a  place 
of  refuge  for  the  brother  of  my  mother? ' 

'Now,  as  sure  as  thy  soul  liveth,'  answered  the  Pres- 
byter, 'I  had  believed  this  from  no  tongue  but  thine 
own.  Tell  me,  was  it  not  this  very  Sir  Henry  Lee  who, 
by  the  force  of  his  buff-coats  and  his  green  jerkins,  en- 
forced the  Papist  Laud's  order  to  remove  the  altar  to 
the  eastern  end  of  the  church  at  Woodstock?  and  did 
not  he  swear  by  his  beard,  that  he  would  hang  in  the  very 
street  of  Woodstock  whoever  should  deny  to  drink  the 
King's  health?  and  is  not  his  hand  red  with  the  blood 
of  the  saints?  and  hath  there  been  a  ruffler  in  the  field 
for  Prelacy  and  high  prerogative  more  unmitigable  or 
fiercer? ' 

'All  this  may  have  been  as  you  say,  good  Master 
Holdenough,'  said  the  colonel;  'but  my  uncle  is  now  old 
and  feeble,  and  hath  scarce  a  single  follower  remaining, 
and  his  daughter  is  a  being  whom  to  look  upon  would 
make  the  sternest  weep  for  pity  —  a  being  who  — ' 

'Who  is  dearer  to  Everard,'  said  Holdenough,  'than 
his  good  name,  his  faith  to  his  friends,  his  duty  to  his 
religion.  This  is  no  time  to  speak  with  sugared  lips.  The 
paths  in  which  you  tread  are  dangerous.  You  are  striv- 
ing to  raise  the  Papistical  candlestick  which  Heaven  in 
its  justice  removed  out  of  its  place  —  to  bring  back  to 
this  hall  of  sorceries  those  very  sinners  who  are  be- 
witched with  them.  I  will  not  permit  the  land  to  be 
abused  by  their  witchcrafts.  The}'-  shall  not  come  hither.* 

He  spoke  this  with  vehemence,  and  striking  his  stick 

297 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

against  the  ground;  and  the  colonel,  very  much  dis- 
satisfied, began  to  express  himself  haughtily  in  return. 
'You  had  better  consider  your  power  to  accomplish 
your  threats.  Master  Holdenough,'  he  said,  'before  you 
urge  them  so  peremptorily.' 

'And  have  I  not  the  power  to  bind  and  to  loose? '  said 
the  clergyman. 

'  It  is  a  power  little  available,  save  over  those  of  your 
own  church,'  said  Everard,  with  a  tone  something  con- 
temptuous. 

'Take  heed  —  take  heed,'  said  the  divine,  who, 
though  an  excellent,  was,  as  we  have  elsewhere  seen,  an 
irritable,  man.  '  Do  not  insult  me;  but  think  honourably 
of  the  messenger,  for  the  sake  of  Him  whose  commission 
he  carries.  Do  not,  I  say,  defy  me:  I  am  bound  to  dis- 
charge my  duty,  were  it  to  the  displeasing  of  my  twin 
brother.' 

'I  can  see  nought  your  office  has  to  do  in  the  matter,' 
said  Colonel  Everard ; '  and  I,  on  my  side,  give  you  warn- 
ing not  to  attempt  to  meddle  beyond  your  commission.' 

'  Right  —  you  hold  me  already  to  be  as  submissive  as 
one  of  your  grenadiers,'  replied  the  clergyman,  his  acute 
features  trembling  with  a  sense  of  indignity,  so  as  even 
to  agitate  his  grey  hair;  'but  beware,  sir,  I  am  not  so 
powerless  as  you  suppose.  I  will  invoke  every  true 
Christian  in  Woodstock  to  gird  up  his  loins,  and  resist 
the  restoration  of  Prelacy,  oppression,  and  Malignancy 
within  our  borders.  I  will  stir  up  the  wrath  of  the 
righteous  against  the  oppressor  —  the  Ishmaelite  —  the 
Edomite  —  and  against  his  race,  and  against  those  who 
support  him  and  encourage  him  to  rear  up  his  horn.  I 
will  call  aloud,  and  spare  not,  and  arouse  the  many  whose 

298 


WOODSTOCK 

love  hath  waxed  cold,  and  the  multitude  who  care  for 
none  of  these  things.  There  shall  be  a  remnant  to  lis- 
ten to  me;  and  I  will  take  the  stick  of  Joseph,  which  was 
in  the  hand  of  Ephraim,  and  go  down  to  cleanse  this 
place  of  witches  and  sorcerers,  and  of  enchantments,  and 
will  cry  and  exhort,  saying,  "Will  you  plead  for  Baal? 
will  you  serve  him?  Nay,  take  the  prophets  of  Baal; 
let  not  a  man  escape.'" 

*  Master  Holdenough  —  Master  Holdenough,'  said 
Colonel  Everard,  with  much  impatience,  'by  the  tale 
yourself  told  me,  you  have  exhorted  upon  that  text  once 
too  often  already.' 

The  old  man  struck  his  palm  forcibly  against  his  fore- 
head and  fell  back  into  a  chair  as  these  words  were  ut- 
tered, as  suddenly,  and  as  much  without  power  of  re- 
sistance, as  if  the  colonel  had  fired  a  pistol  through  his 
head.  Instantly  regretting  the  reproach  which  he  had 
suffered  to  escape  him  in  his  impatience,  Everard  hast- 
ened to  apologise,  and  to  offer  every  conciliatory  ex- 
cuse, however  inconsistent,  which  occurred  to  him  on  the 
moment.  But  the  old  man  was  too  deeply  affected; 
he  rejected  his  hand,  lent  no  ear  to  what  he  said,  and 
finally  started  up,  saying  sternly,  'You  have  abused  my 
confidence,  sir  —  abused  it  vilely,  to  turn  it  into  my  own 
reproach;  had  I  been  a  man  of  the  sword,  you  dared 
not.  But  enjoy  your  triumph,  sir,  over  an  old  man,  and 
your  father's  friend;  strike  at  the  wound  his  imprudent 
confidence  showed  you.' 

'Nay,  my  worthy  and  excellent  friend — '  said  the 
colonel. 

'  Friend ! '  answered  the  old  man,  starting  up.  *  We  are 
foes,  sir  —  foes  now,  and  for  ever.' 

299 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

So  saying,  and  starting  from  the  seat  into  which  he 
had  rather  fallen  than  thrown  himself,  he  ran  out  of  the 
room  with  a  precipitation  of  step  which  he  was  apt  to 
use  upon  occasions  of  irritable  feehng,  and  which  was 
certainly  more  eager  than  dignified,  especially  as  he 
muttered  while  he  ran,  and  seemed  as  if  he  were  keeping 
up  his  own  passion  by  recounting  over  and  over  the 
offence  which  he  had  received. 

*Soh!'  said  Colonel  Everard,  'and  there  was  not  strife 
enough  between  mine  uncle  and  the  people  of  Woodstock 
already,  but  I  must  needs  increase  it,  by  chafing  this 
irritable  and  quick-tempered  old  man,  eager  as  I  knew 
him  to  be  in  his  ideas  of  church-government,  and  stiff 
in  his  prejudices  respecting  all  who  dissent  from  him! 
The  mob  of  Woodstock  will  rise;  for  though  he  would  not 
get  a  score  of  them  to  stand  by  him  in  any  honest  or 
intelligible  purpose,  yet  let  him  cry  "havoc  and  destruc- 
tion," and  I  will  warrant  he  has  followers  enow.  And 
my  uncle  is  equally  wild  and  unpersuadable.  For  the 
value  of  all  the  estate  he  ever  had,  he  would  not  allow 
a  score  of  troopers  to  be  quartered  in  the  house  for  de- 
fence; and  if  he  be  alone,  or  has  but  Joceline  to  stand  by 
him,  he  will  be  as  sure  to  fire  upon  those  who  come  to 
attack  the  lodge  as  if  he  had  a  hundred  men  in  garrison; 
and  then  what  can  chance  but  danger  and  bloodshed?' 

This  progress  of  melancholy  anticipation  was  inter- 
rupted by  the  return  of  Master  Holdenough,  who,  hurry- 
ing into  the  room  with  the  same  precipitate  pace  at 
which  he  had  left  it,  ran  straight  up  to  the  colonel,  and 
said,  'Take  my  hand,  Markham  —  take  my  hand  hast- 
ily ;  for  the  old  Adam  is  whispering  at  my  heart  that  it  is 
a  disgrace  to  hold  it  extended  so  long.' 

300 


WOODSTOCK 

'Most  heartily  do  I  receive  your  hand,  my  venerable 
friend,'  said  Everard,  'and  I  trust  in  sign  of  renewed 
amity.' 

'Surely  —  surely,'  said  the  divine,  shaking  his  hand 
kindly;  'thou hast,  it  is  true,  spoken  bitterly,  but  thou 
hast  spoken  truth  in  good  time,  and  I  think,  though 
your  words  were  severe,  with  a  good  and  kindly  purpose. 
Verily,  and  of  a  truth,  it  were  sinful  in  me  again  to  be 
hasty  in  provoking  violence,  remembering  that  which 
you  have  upbraided  me  with  — ' 

'Forgive  me,  good  Master  Holdenough,'  said  Colonel 
Everard,  'it  was  a  hasty  word:  I  meant  not  in  serious 
earnest  to  upbraid.' 

'Peace,  I  pray  you  —  peace,'  said  the  divine;  'I  say, 
the  allusion  to  that  which  you  have  most  justly  upbraided 
me  with  —  though  the  charge  aroused  the  gall  of  the  old 
man  within  me,  the  inward  tempter  being  ever  on  the 
watch  to  bring  us  to  his  lure  —  ought,  instead  of  being 
resented,  to  have  been  acknowledged  by  me  as  a  favour, 
for  so  are  the  wounds  of  a  friend  termed  faithful.  And 
surely  I,  who  have  by  one  unhappy  exhortation  to  battle 
and  strife  sent  the  Uving  to  the  dead,  and,  I  fear,  brought 
back  even  the  dead  among  the  living,  should  now  study 
peace  and  goodwill,  and  reconciliation  of  difference, 
leaving  punishment  to  the  Great  Being  whose  laws  are 
broken,  and  vengeance  to  Him  who  hath  said,  "I  will 
repay  it.'" 

The  old  man's  mortified  features  lighted  up  with  a 
humble  confidence  as  he  made  this  acknowledgment; 
and  Colonel  Everard,  who  knew  the  constitutional  in- 
firmities and  the  early  prejudices  of  professional  conse- 
quence and  exclusive  party  opinion  which  he  must  have 

301 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

subdued  ere  arriving  at  such  a  tone  of  candour,  hastened 
to  express  his  admiration  of  his  Christian  charity, 
mingled  with  reproaches  on  himself  for  having  so  deeply- 
injured  his  feelings. 

*  Think  not  of  it  —  think  not  of  it,  excellent  young 
man,'  said  Holdenough;  'we  have  both  erred  —  I  in 
suffering  my  zeal  to  outrun  my  charity;  you,  perhaps, 
in  pressing  hard  on  an  old  and  peevish  man,  who  had  so 
lately  poured  out  his  sufferings  into  your  friendly  bosom. 
Be  it  all  forgotten.  Let  your  friends,  if  they  are  not 
deterred  by  what  has  happened  at  this  manor  of  Wood- 
stock, resume  their  habitation  as  soon  as  they  will. 
If  they  can  protect  themselves  against  the  powers  of 
the  air,  believe  me  that,  if  I  can  prevent  it  by  aught  in 
my  power,  they  shall  have  no  annoyance  from  earthly 
neighbours;  and  assure  yourself,  good  sir,  that  my  voice 
is  still  worth  something  with  the  worthy  mayor,  and 
the  good  aldermen,  and  the  better  sort  of  housekeepers 
up  yonder  in  the  town,  although  the  lower  classes  are 
blown  about  with  every  wind  of  doctrine.  And  yet 
further,  be  assured,  colonel,  that,  should  your  mother's 
brother,  or  any  of  his  family,  learn  that  they  have 
taken  up  a  rash  bargain  in  returning  to  this  unhappy  and 
unhallowed  house,  or  should  they  find  any  qualms  in 
their  own  hearts  and  consciences  which  require  a  ghostly 
comforter,  Nehemiah  Holdenough  will  be  as  much  at 
their  command  by  night  or  day  as  if  they  had  been  bred 
up  within  the  holy  pale  of  the  church  in  which  he  is  an 
unworthy  minister;  and  neither  the  awe  of  what  is 
fearful  to  be  seen  within  these  walls,  nor  his  know- 
ledge of  their  blinded  and  carnal  state,  as  bred  up  un- 
der a  prelatic  dispensation,  shall  prevent  him  doing 

302 


WOODSTOCK 

what  lies  in  his  poor  abilities  for  their  protection  and 
edification.' 

*I  feel  all  the  force  of  your  kindness,  reverend  sir,' 
said  Colonel  Everard,  'but  I  do  not  think  it  likely  that 
my  uncle  will  give  you  trouble  on  either  score.  He  is 
a  man  much  accustomed  to  be  his  own  protector  in 
temporal  danger,  and  in  spiritual  doubts  to  trust  to  his 
own  prayers  and  those  of  his  church,' 

'  I  trust  I  have  not  been  superfluous  in  offering  mine 
assistance,'  said  the  old  man,  something  jealous  that 
his  proffered  spiritual  aid  had  been  held  rather  intrusive. 
'  I  ask  pardon  if  that  is  the  case  —  I  humbly  ask  pardon; 
I  would  not  wiUingly  be  superfluous.' 

The  colonel  hastened  to  appease  this  new  alarm  of  the 
watchful  jealousy  of  his  consequence,  which,  joined  with 
a  natural  heat  of  temper  which  he  could  not  always  sub- 
due, were  the  good  man's  only  faults. 

They  had  regained  their  former  friendly  footing, 
when  Roger  Wildrake  returned  from  the  hut  of  Joceline, 
and  whispered  his  master  that  his  embassy  had  been 
successful.  The  colonel  then  addressed  the  divine,  and 
informed  him  that,  as  the  Commissioners  had  already 
given  up  Woodstock,  and  as  his  uncle.  Sir  Henry  Lee, 
proposed  to  return  to  the  lodge  about  noon,  he  would, 
if  his  reverence  pleased,  attend  him  up  to  the  borough. 

'Will  you  not  tarry,'  said  the  reverend  man,  with 
something  Uke  inquisitive  apprehension  in  his  voice,  *  to 
welcome  your  relatives  upon  their  return  to  this  their 
house? ' 

'No,  my  good  friend,'  said  Colonel  Everard;  'the 
part  which  I  have  taken  in  these  unhappy  broils,  perhaps 
also  the  mode  of  worship  in  which  I  have  been  educated, 

303 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

have  so  prejudiced  me  in  mine  uncle's  opinion,  that  I 
must  be  for  some  time  a  stranger  to  his  house  and  family. ' 

*  Indeed !  I  rejoice  to  hear  it,  with  all  my  heart  and 
soul,'  said  the  divine.  'Excuse  my  frankness  —  I  do 
indeed  rejoice;  I  had  thought  —  no  matter  what  I  had 
thought,  I  would  not  again  give  offence.  But  truly, 
though  the  maiden  hath  a  pleasant  feature,  and  he,  as 
all  men  say,  is  in  human  things  unexceptionable,  yet  — 
but  I  give  you  pain  —  in  sooth,  I  will  say  no  more  unless 
you  ask  my  sincere  and  unprejudiced  advice,  which  you 
shall  command,  but  which  I  will  not  press  on  you  super- 
fluously. Wend  we  to  the  borough  together;  the  pleas- 
ant solitude  of  the  forest  may  dispose  us  to  open  our 
hearts  to  each  other.' 

They  did  walk  up  to  the  little  town  in  company,  and, 
somewhat  to  Master  Holdenough's  surprise,  the  colonel, 
though  they  talked  on  various  subjects,  did  not  request 
of  him  any  ghostly  advice  on  the  subject  of  his  love  to  his 
fair  cousin,  while,  greatly  beyond  the  expectation  of  the 
soldier,  the  clergyman  kept  his  word,  and,  in  his  own 
phrase,  was  not  so  superfluous  as  to  offer  upon  so  deli- 
cate a  point  his  unasked  counsel. 


APPENDICES,  NOTES,  AND  GLOSSARY 


APPENDICES  TO    INTRODUCTION 

No.  I 
THE  WOODSTOCK  SCUFFLE 

OR 

MOST    DREADFULL    APPARITIONS     THAT    WERE    LATELY 

SEENE  IN  THE  MANNOR-HOUSE  OF  WOODSTOCK,  NEERE 

OXFORD,    TO    THE    GREAT    TERROR    AND    WONDERFUL 

AMAZEMENT  OF  ALL  THERE  THAT  DID  BEHOLD  THEM. 

[Printed  in  the  yeer  1649.   4to] 


It  were  a  wonder  if  one  writes, 
And  not  of  wonders  and  strange  sights; 
For  ev'ry  where  such  things  affrights 
Poore  people. 

That  men  are  ev'n  at  their  wits'  end. 
God  judgments  ev'ry  where  doth  send, 
And  yet  we  don't  our  lives  amend, 
But  tipple, 

And  sweare,  and  lie,  and  cheat,  and  — , 
Because  the  world  shall  drown  no  more. 
As  if  no  judgments  were  in  store 
But  water; 

But  by  the  stories  which  I  tell, 
You  '11  heare  of  terrors  come  from  hell. 
And  fires,  and  shapes  most  terrible 
For  matter. 

It  is  not  long  since  that  a  child 
Spake  from  the  ground  in  a  large  field. 
And  made  the  people  almost  wild 

That  heard  it, 

Of  which  there  is  a  printed  book. 
Wherein  each  man  the  truth  may  look; 
If  children  speak,  the  matter  's  took 
For  verdict. 

But  this  is  stranger  than  that  voice. 
The  wonder 's  greater,  and  the  noyse; 
And  things  appeare  to  men,  not  boyes. 
At  Woodstock; 


Where  Rosamond  had  once  a  bower. 
To  keep  her  from  Queen  Elinour, 
And  had  escap'd  her  poys'nous  power 
By  good  luck. 

But  fate  had  otherwise  decreed, 
And  Woodstock  Manner  saw  a  deed, 
Which  is  in  Hollinshed  or  Speed 

Chro-nicled; 

But  neither  Hollinshed  nor  Stow, 
Nor  no  historians  such  things  show, 
Though  in  them  wonders  we  well  know 
Are  pickled; 

For  nothing  else  is  history 

But  pickle  of  antiquity. 

Where  things  are  kept  in  memory 

From  stincking. 

Which  otherwaies  would  have  lain  dead. 
As  in  oblivion  buried. 
Which  now  you  may  call  into  head 
With  thinking. 

The  dreadfuU  story,  which  is  true. 
And  now  committed  unto  view. 
By  better  pen,  had  it  its  due. 

Should  see  light; 

But  I,  contented,  doe  indite. 
Not  things  of  v.'it,  but  things  of  right; 
You  can't  expect  that  things  that  fright 
Should  delight. 


307 


APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION 


O  hearken,  therefore,  harke  and  shake 
My  very  pen  and  hand  doth  quake! 
While  I  the  true  relation  make 

O'  th'  wonder. 

Which  hath  long  time,  and  still  appeares 
Unto  the  State's  Commissioners, 
And  puts  them  in  their  beds  to  feares 
From  under. 

They  come,  good  men,  imploi'd  by  th' 

State, 
To  sell  the  lands  of  Charles  the  late, 
And  there  they  lay,  and  long  did  waite 
For  chapmen. 


Aproach  of  day  did  cleere  the  doubt, 
For  all  devotions  were  run  out. 
They   now   waxt   strong   and   something 
stout; 

One  peaked 

Under  the  bed,  but  nought  was  there; 
Hee  view'd  the  chamber  ev'ry  where, 
Nothing  apear'd  but  what,  for  feare. 
They  leaked. 

Their  stomachs  then  return'd  apace, 
They  found  the  mutton  in  the  place, 
And  fell  unto  it  with  a  grace. 

They  laughed 


You  may  have  easy  pen'worths,  woods,  £ach  at  the  other's  pannick  feare. 

Lands,  ven'son,  householdstuf,  and  goods;  And  each  his  bedfellow  did  jeere. 

They  little  thought  of  dogs  that  wou'd  And  having  sent  for  ale  and  beere. 
There  snap  men.  They  quaffed. 


But  when  they'd  sup'd,  and  fully  fed, 
They  set  up  remnants  and  to  bed. 
Where  scarce  they  had  laid  down  a  head 
To  slumber. 

But  that  their  beds  were  heav'd  on  high; 
They  thought  some  dog  under  did  lie. 
And  meant  i'  th'  chamber  (fie,  fie,  fie,) 
To  scumber. 

Some  thought  the  cunning  cur  did  mean 
To  eat  their  mutton  (which  was  lean) 
Reserv'd  for  breakfast,  for  the  men 
Were  thrifty; 

And  up  one  rises  in  his  shirt, 
Intending  the  slie  cur  to  hurt. 
And  forty  thrusts  made  at  him  for  't, 
Or  fifty. 

But  empty  came  his  sword  again, 
He  found  hee  thrust  but  all  in  vain; 
The  mutton  safe,  hee  went  amain 
To 's  fellow. 


And  then  abroad  the  summons  went. 
Who'll  buy  king's-land  o'  th' Parli'ment? 
A  paper-book  contein'd  the  rent. 

Which  lay  there; 

That  did  contein  the  severall  farmes. 
Quit-rents,  knight  services,  and  armes; 
But  that  they  came  not  in  by  swarmes 
To  pay  there. 

Night  doth  invite  to  bed  again, 
The  grand  Commissioners  were  lain, 
But  then  the  thing  did  heave  amain, 
It  busied, 

And  with  great  clamor  fil'd  their  eares. 
The  noyse  was  doubled,  and  their  feares; 
Nothing  was  standing  but  their  haires. 
They  nuzled. 

Oft  were  the  blankets  pul'd,  the  sheete 
Was  closely  twin'd  betwixt  their  feete. 
It  seems  the  spirit  was  discreete 
And  civill. 


And  now  (assured  all  was  well) 
The  bed  again  began  to  swell. 
The  men  were  frighted,  and  did  smell 
O'  th'  yellow. 

From  heaving,  now  the  cloaths  it  pluckt; 
The  men,  for  feare,  together  stuck, 
And  in  their  sweat  each  other  duck't. 
They  wished 

A  thousand  times  that  it  were  day; 
"T  is  sure  the  divell!  Let  us  pray.' 
They  pray'd  amain  ;  and  as  they  say, 


Which  makes  the  poore  Commissioners 
Feare  they  shall  get  but  small  arreares, 
And  that  there 's  yet  for  Cavaliers 
One  divell. 

They  cast  about  what  best  to  doe; 
Next  day  they  would  to  wise  men  goe. 
To  neighb'ring  towns  som  cours  to  know; 
For  schollars 

Come  not  to  Woodstock,  as  before, 
And  Allen 's  dead  as  a  nayle-doore, 
And  so 's  old  John  (eclep'd  the  poore) 
His  follower. 


308 


APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION 


Rake  Oxford  o're,  there's  not  a  man 
That  rayse  or  lay  a  spirit  can, 
Or  use  the  circle,  or  the  wand, 

Or  conjure; 

Or  can  say  Boh!  unto  a  divell. 
Or  to  a  goose  that  is  uncivil), 
Nor  where  Keimbolton  purg'd  out  evill, 
'T  is  sin  sure. 

There  were  two  villages  hard  by, 
With  teachers  of  presbytery, 
Who  knew  the  house  was  hidiously 
Be-pestred; 

But  'lasse!  their  new  divinity 
Is  not  so  deep,  or  not  so  high; 
Their  witts  doe  (as  their  meanes  did)  lie 
Sequestred; 

But  Master  Joffman  was  the  wight 
Which  was  to  exorcise  the  spright; 
Hee'U  preach  and  pray  you   day  and 
night 

At  pleasure. 

And  by  that  painfull  gainfuU  trade, 
He  hath  himsclfe  full  wealthy  made; 
Great  store  of  guilt  he  hath,  't  is  said, 
And  treasure. 


Some  other  way  they  cast  about, 
These  brought  him  in,  they  throw  not 

out; 
A  woman,  great  with  child,  will  do  't; 
They  got  one. 

And  she  i'  th'  room  that  night  must  lie; 
But  when  the  thing  about  did  flie, 
And  broke  the  windows  furiously. 
And  hot  one 

Of  the  contractors  o're  the  head. 
Who  lav  securely  in  bis  bed, 
The  woman,  shee-affrighted,  fled, 


And  now  they  lay  the  cause  on  her, 
That  e're  that  night  the  thing  did  stir, 
Because  her  selfe  and  grandfather 
Were  Papists ; 

They  must  be  barnes-regenerate 
(A  Ilans  en  Kclder  of  the  state, 
Which  was  in  reformation  gatt), 

They  said,  which 

Doth  make  the  divell  stand  in  awe. 
Pull  in  his  homes,  his  hoof,  his  claw  ; 
But  having  none,  they  did  in  draw 


But  no  intreaty  of  his  friends 
Could  get  him  to  the  house  of  fiends. 
He  came  not  over  for  such  ends 

From  Dutch-land; 

But  worse  divinity  hee  brought. 
And  hath  us  reformation  taught, 
And,  with  our  money,  he  hath  bought 
Him  much  land. 


But  in  the  night  there  was  such  worke, 
The  spirit  swaggered  like  a  Turke; 
The  bitch  had  spi'd  where  it  did  lurke, 
And  howled 

In  such  a  wofull  manner,  that 
Their  very  hearts  went  pit  a  pat; 


Had  the  old  parsons  preached  still. 
The  div'l  should  nev'r  have  had  his  wil; 
But  those  that  had  or  art  or  skill 
Are  outed; 

And  those  to  whom  the  pow'r  was  giv'n 
Of  driving  spirits  are  out-driv'n; 
Their  colledges  dispos'd,  and  livings. 
To  grout-heads. 

There  was  a  justice  who  did  boast, 
Hee  had  as  great  a  gift  almost, 
Who  did  desire  him  to  accost 
This  evill; 

But  hee  would  not  employ  his  gifts, 
But  found  out  many  sleights  and  shifts; 
Hee  had  no  prayers,  nor  no  snifts. 
For  th'  divell. 


The  stately  rooms,  where  kings  once  lay; 
But  the  contractors  shew'd  the  way. 
But  mark  what  now  I  tell  you,  pray, 
'T  is  worth  it. 

That  book  I  told  you  of  before. 
Wherein  were  tenants  written  store, 
A  register  for  many  more 

Not  forth  yet; 

That  very  book,  as  it  did  lie. 
Took  of  a  flame,  no  mortall  eye 
Seeing  one  jot  of  fire  thereby, 
Or  taper; 

For  all  the  candles  about  flew, 
And  those  that  burned,  burned  blew. 
Never  kept  soldiers  such  a  doe 
Or  vaper. 


309 


APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION 


The  book  thus  burnt  and  none  knew  how,  And  all  the  windows  batter'd  are, 

The  poore  contractors  made  a  vow  No  man  the  quarter  enter  dare; 

To  worke  no  more;  this  spoil'd  their  plow  All  men  (except  the  glasier) 

In  that  place.  Doe  grumble. 


Some  other  part  o'  th'  house  they'll  find 
To  which  the  devill  hath  no  mind, 
But  hee,  it  seems,  is  not  inclin'd 

With  that  grace. 

But  other  prancks  it  plaid  elsewhere. 
An  oake  there  was  stood  many  a  yeere, 
Of  goodly  growth  as  any  where. 

Was  hewn  down. 

Which  into  fewell-wood  was  cut, 
And  some  into  a  wood-pile  put. 
But  it  was  hurled  all  about 

And  thrown  down. 

In  sundry  formes  it  doth  appeare; 
Now  like  a  grasping  claw  to  teare; 
Now  like  a  dog,  anon  a  beare. 
It  tumbles; 


Once  in  the  likenesse  of  a  woman. 
Of  stature  much  above  the  common, 
'T  was  seene,  but  spak  a  word  to  no  man, 
And  vanish'd. 

'T  is  thought  the  ghost  of  some  good  wife 
Whose  husband  was  depriv'd  of  life. 
Her  children  cheated,  land  in  strife 
She  banist. 

No  man  can  tell  the  cause  of  these 
So  wondrous  dreadfuU  outrages; 
Yet  if  upon  your  sinne  you  please 
To  discant. 

You  'le  find  our  actions  out  doe  hell's; 
O  wring  your  hands  and  cease  the  bellSi 
Repentance  must,  or  nothing  else 
Appease  cao't. 


No.  II 
THE  JUST  DEVIL   OF  WOODSTOCK 

OR 

A  TRUE  NARRATIVE  OF  THE  SEVERAL  APPARITIONS,  THE 
FRIGHTS  AND  PUNISHMENTS,  INFLICTED  UPON  THE 
RUMPISH  COMMISSIONERS  SENT  THITHER  TO  SURVEY 
THE  MANNORS  AND  HOUSES  BELONGING  TO  HIS 
MAJESTIE. 

[London,  printed  in  the  year  1660.  4to.] 

The  names  of  the  persons  in  the  ensuing  Narrative  mentioned, 
with  others:  — 

Captain  Cockaine.  Mr.  Crook,  the  Lawyer. 

Captain  Hart.  Mr.  Browne,  the  Surveyor. 

Captain  Crook.  Their  three  Servants. 

Captain  Carelesse.  Their  Ordinary-keeper,  and  others. 

Captain  Roe.  The  Gatekeeper,  with  the  Wife  and  Servants. 

Besides  many  more,  who  each  night  heard  the  noise,  as  Sir  Ger- 
rard  Fleetwood  and  his  lady,  with  his  family;  Mr.  Hyans,  with  his 
family;  and  several  others,  who  lodged  in  the  outer  courts;  and 
during  the  three  last  nights,  the  inhabitants  of  Woodstock  town 
and  other  neighbor  villages. 

And  there  were  many  more,  both  divines  and  others,  who  came 
out  of  the  country,  and  from  Oxford,  to  see  the  glass  and  stones 
and  other  stuffe  the  devil  had  brought,  wherewith  to  beat  out  the 
Commissioners;  the  marks  upon  some  walls  remain,  and  many, 
this  to  testifie. 

THE  PREFACE  TO  THE  ENSUING  NARRATIVE 

Since  it  hath  pleased  the  Almighty  God,  out  of  His  infinite 
mercy,  so  to  make  us  happy,  by  restoring  of  our  native  king  to  us, 
and  us  unto  our  native  liberty  through  him,  that  now  the  good 
may  say,  magna  kmporum  felicUas  ubi  seniire  qua  velis,  et  dicere 

311 


APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION 

licet  qutz  sentias,  we  cannot  but  esteem  ourselves  engaged,  in  the 
highest  of  degrees,  to  render  unto  Him  the  highest  thanks  we  can 
express,  although,  surpris'd  with  joy,  we  become  as  lost  in  the  per- 
formance, when  gladness  and  admiration  strikes  us  silent,  as  we 
look  back  upon  the  precipiece  of  our  late  condition,  and  those 
miraculous  deliverances  beyond  expression,  freed  from  the  slavery 
and  those  desperate  perils  we  dayly  lived  in  fear  of,  during  the 
tyrannicall  times  of  that  detestable  usurper,  Oliver  Cromwell; 
he  who  had  raked  up  such  judges  as  would  wrest  the  most  inno- 
cent language  into  high  treason,  when  he  had  the  cruel  conscience 
to  take  away  our  lives,  upon  no  other  ground  of  justice  or  reason 
(the  stones  of  London  streets  would  rise  to  witness  it,  if  all  the 
citizens  were  silent) ;  and  with  these  judges  had  such  councillors 
as  could  advise  him  unto  worse,  which  will  less  want  of  witness. 
For  should  the  many  auditors  be  silent,  the  press,  as  God  would 
have  it,  hath  given  it  us  in  print,  where  one  of  them,  and  his  con- 
science-keeper, too,  speaks  out,  'What  shall  we  do  with  these 
men?'  saith  he:  ^Eger  intemperans  crudelem  facit  medicum,  et  im- 
medicahile  vulnus  ense  reddendum.  Who  these  men  are  that  should 
be  brought  to  such  Sicilian  Vespers,  the  former  page  sets  forth  — 
those  which  conceit  Utopias,  and  have  their  day-dreams  of  the 
return  of  I  know  not  what  golden  age,  with  the  old  line.  What 
usage,  when  such  a  privy  councillor  had  power,  could  he  expect, 
who  then  had  published  this  narrative?  This,  which  so  plainly 
shows  the  devil  himself  dislikt  their  doings  (so  much  more  bad 
were  they  then  he  would  have  them  be) ,  severer  sure  then  was  the 
devil  to  their  Commissioners  at  Woodstock;  for  he  warned  them, 
with  dreadful  noises,  to  drive  them  from  their  work.  This  council- 
lor, without  more  ado,  would  have  all  who  retain'd  conceits  of 
allegiance  to  their  soveraign  to  be  absolutely  cut  off  by  the 
usurper's  sword.  A  sad  sentence  for  a  loyal  party  to  a  lawful  king. 
But  Heaven  is  always  just;  the  party  is  repriv'd,  and  do  acknow- 
ledge the  hand  of  God  in  it,  as  is  rightly  applyed,  and  as  justly 
sensible  of  their  deliverance,  in  that  the  foundation,  which  this 
councellor  saith  was  already  so  well  laid,  is  now  turned  up,  and 
what  he  calls  day-dreams  are  come  to  passe.  That  old  line,  which 
(as  with  him)  there  seemed  aliqiiid  divini  to  the  contrary,  is  now 
restored.  And  that  rock  which,  as  he  saith,  the  prelates  and  all 
their  adherents,  nay,  and  their  master  and  supporter,  too,  with  all 
his  posterity,  have  split  themselves  upon,  is  nowhere  to  be  heard. 
And  that  posterity  are  safely  arrived  in  their  ports,  and  masters 
of  that  mighty  navy,  their  enemies  so  much  encreased  to  keep 

312 


APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION 

them  out  with.  The  eldest  sits  upon  the  throne,  his  place  by  birth- 
right and  descent, 

Pacatumque  regit  patriis  virtutibus  orbem; 

upon  which  throne  long  may  he  sit,  and  reign  in  peace,  that  by  his 
just  government  the  enemies  of  ours,  the  true  Protestant  Church, 
of  that  glorious  martyr,  our  late  soveraign,  and  of  his  royal  pos- 
terity, may  be  either  absolutely  converted  or  utterly  confounded. 

If  any  shall  now  ask  thee  why  this  narrative  was  not  sooner 
published,  as  neerer  to  the  times  wherein  the  things  were  acted, 
he  hath  the  reason  for  it  in  the  former  lines;  which  will  the  more 
dearly  appear  imto  his  apprehension,  if  he  shall  perpend  how 
much  cruelty  is  requisite  to  the  maintenance  of  rebellion,  and  how 
great  care  is  necessary  in  the  supporters,  to  obviate  and  divert 
the  smallest  things  that  tend  to  the  unblinding  of  the  people;  so 
that  it  needs  will  follow  that  they  must  have  accounted  this 
amongst  the  great  obstructions  to  their  sales  of  his  ^Majestie's 
lands,  the  devil  not  joining  with  them  in  the  security;  and  greater 
to  the  pulling  down  the  royal  pallaces,  when  their  chapmen  should 
conceit  the  devil  would  haunt  them  in  their  houses,  for  building 
with  so  ill  got  materials;  as  no  doubt  but  that  he  hath,  so  numer- 
ous and  confident  are  the  relations  made  of  the  same,  though  scarce 
any  so  totally  remarkeable  as  this  (if  it  be  not  that  others  have 
been  more  concealed),  in  regard  of  the  strange  circumstances  as 
long  continuances,  but  especially  the  number  of  the  persons  to- 
gether, to  whom  all  things  were  so  visibly  both  seen  and  done, 
so  that  surely  it  exceeds  any  other;  for  the  devils  thus  manifesting 
themselves,  it  appears  evidently  that  there  are  such  things  as 
devils  to  persecute  the  wicked  in  this  world  as  in  the  next. 

Now,  if  to  these  were  added  the  diverse  reall  phantasms  seen 
at  Whitehall  in  Cromwell's  times,  which  caused  him  to  keep  such 
mighty  guards  in  and  about  his  bedchamber,  and  yet  so  oft  to 
change  his  lodgings;  if  those  things  done  at  St.  James,  where  the 
devil  so  joal  'd  the  centinels  against  the  sides  of  the  queen's  chap- 
pell  doors,  that  some  of  them  fell  sick  upon  it,  and,  others  not  tak- 
ing warning  by  it,  kild  one  outright,  whom  they  buried  in  the 
place,  and  all  other  such  dreadful  things,  those  that  inhabited 
the  royal  houses  have  been  affrighted  with. 

And  if  to  these  were  likewise  added  a  relation  of  all  those  re- 
gicides and  their  abettors  the  devil  hath  entred  into,  as  he  did 
the  Gadarenes'  swine,  with  so  many  more  of  them  who  hath 
fallen  mad  and  dyed  in  hideous  forms  of  such  distractions  — 

313 


APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION 

that  which  hath  been  of  this  within  these  1 2  last  years  in  Eng- 
land (should  all  of  this  nature  our  chronicles  do  tell,  with  all  the 
superstitious  monks  have  writ,  be  put  together)  would  make  the 
greater  volume,  and  of  more  strange  occurrents. 

And  now  as  to  the  penman  of  this  narrative,  know  that  he  was 
a  divine,  and  at  the  time  of  those  things  acted,  which  are  here 
related,  the  minister  and  schoolmaster  of  Woodstock;  a  person 
learned  and  discreet,  not  byassed  with  factious  humours,  his  name 
Widows,  who  each  day  put  in  writing  what  he  heard  from  their 
mouthes,  and  such  things  as  they  told  to  have  befallen  them  the 
night  before,  therein  keeping  to  their  own  words;  and,  never  think- 
ing that  what  he  had  writ  should  happen  to  be  made  publick,  gave 
it  no  better  dress  to  set  it  forth.  And  because  to  do  it  now  shall  not 
be  construed  to  change  the  story,  the  reader  hath  it  here  accord- 
ingly exposed. 

THE  JUST  DEVIL   OF   WOODSTOCK 

The  i6th  day  of  October,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  1649,  the  Com- 
missioners for  surveying  and  valuing  his  Majestie's  mannor  house, 
parks,  woods,  deer,  demesnes,  and  all  things  thereunto  belong- 
ing, by  name  Captain  Crook,  Captain  Hart,  Captain  Cockaine, 
Captain  Carelesse,  and  Captain  Roe,  their  messenger,  with  Mr. 
Browne,  their  secretary,  and  two  or  three  servants,  went  from 
Woodstock  town,  where  they  had  lain  some  nights  before,  and 
took  up  their  lodgings  in  his  Majestie's  house  after  this  manner: 
—  The  bed-chamber  and  withdrawing-room  they  both  lodged 
in  and  made  their  kitchen,  the  presence-chamber  their  room  for 
dispatch  of  their  business  with  all  commers,  of  the  council-hall 
their  brew-house,  as  of  the  dining-room  their  wood-house,  where 
they  laid  in  the  clefts  of  that  antient  standard  in  the  High-Park, 
for  many  ages  beyond  memory  known  by  the  name  of  the  King's 
Oak,  which  they  had  chosen  out,  and  caused  to  be  dug  up  by  the 
roots. 

October  17.  —  About  the  middle  of  the  night,  these  new  guests 
were  first  awaked  by  a  knocking  at  the  presence-chamber  door, 
which  they  also  conceived  did  open,  and  something  to  enter, 
which  came  through  the  room,  and  also  walkt  about  that  room 
with  a  heavy  step  during  half  an  hour,  then  crept  under  the  bed 
where  Captain  Hart  and  Captain  Carelesse  lay,  where  it  did  seem 
(as  it  were)  to  bite  and  gnaw  the  mat  and  bed-coards,  as  if  it  would 
tear  and  rend  the  feather  beds;  which  having  done  a  while,  then 

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would  heave  a  while,  and  rest;  then  heave  them  up  again  in  the 
bed  more  high  than  it  did  before,  sometime  on  the  one  side,  some- 
time on  the  other,  as  if  it  had  tried  which  captain  was  heaviest. 
Thus  having  heaved  some  half  an  hour,  from  thence  it  walkt  out 
and  went  under  the  servants'  bed,  and  did  the  like  to  them;  hence 
it  walkt  into  a  withdrawing-room,  and  there  did  the  same  to  all 
who  lodged  there.  Thus,  having  welcomed  them  for  more  than 
two  hours'  space,  it  walkt  out  as  it  came  in,  and  shut  the  outer 
door  again,  but  with  a  clap  of  some  mightie  force.  These  guests 
were  in  a  sweat  all  this  while,  but  out  of  it  falling  into  a  sleep  again, 
it  became  morning  first  before  they  spake  their  minds;  then  would 
they  have  it  to  be  a  dog,  yet  they  described  it  more  to  the  likeness 
of  a  great  bear;  so  fell  to  the  examining  under  the  beds,  where, 
finding  only  the  mats  scracht,  but  the  bed-coards  whole,  and  the 
quarter  of  beef  which  lay  on  the  floor  untoucht,  they  entertained 
other  thoughts. 

October  i8.  —  They  were  all  awaked  as  the  night  before,  and 
now  conceived  that  they  heard  all  the  great  clefts  of  the  King's 
Oak  brought  into  the  presence-chamber,  and  there  thumpt  down, 
and  after  roul  about  the  room;  they  could  hear  their  chairs  and 
stools  tost  from  one  side  of  the  room  unto  the  other,  and  then 
(as  it  were)  altogether  josled.  Thus  having  done  an  hour  to- 
gether, it  walkt  into  the  withdrawing-room,  where  lodged  the  two 
captains,  the  secretary,  and  two  servants;  here  stopt  the  thing 
a  while,  as  if  it  did  take  breath,  but  raised  a  hideous  one,  then 
walkt  into  the  bed-chamber,  where  lay  those  as  before,  and  un- 
der the  bed  it  went,  where  it  did  heave  and  heave  again,  that  now 
they  in  bed  were  put  to  catch  hold  upon  bed-posts,  and  some- 
times one  of  the  other,  to  prevent  their  being  tumbled  out  upon 
the  ground;  then  coming  out  as  from  under  the  bed,  and  taking 
hold  upon  the  bed-posts,  it  would  shake  the  whole  bed,  almost  as 
if  a  cradle  rocked.  Thus  having  done  here  for  half  an  hour,  it 
went  into  the  withdrawing-room,  where  first  it  came  and  stood  at 
the  bed's  feet,  and  heaving  up  the  bed's  feet,  flopt  down  again 
a  while,  until  at  last  it  heaved  the  feet  so  high  that  those  in  bed 
thought  to  have  been  set  upon  their  heads;  and  having  thus  for 
two  hours  entertained  them,  went  out  as  in  the  night  before,  but 
with  a  great  noise. 

October  19.  —  This  night  they  awaked  not  until  the  midst  of 
the  night ;  they  perceived  the  room  to  shake  with  something  that 
walkt  about  the  bed-chamber,  which  having  done  so  a  while,  it 
walkt  into  a  withdrawing-room,  where  it  took  up  a  brasse  warm- 

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ing-pan,  and  returning  with  it  into  the  bed-chamber,  therein  made 
so  loud  a  noise,  in  these  captains'  own  words,  it  was  as  loud  and 
scurvie  as  a  ring  of  five  untuned  bells  rung  backward;  but  the 
captains,  not  to  seem  afraid,  next  day  made  mirth  of  what  had 
past,  and  jested  at  the  devil  in  the  pan, 

October  20.  —  These  captains  and  their  company,  still  lodging 
as  before,  were  awakened  in  this  night,  with  some  things  flying 
about  the  rooms,  and  out  of  one  room  into  the  other,  as  thrown 
with  some  great  force.  Captain  Hart,  being  in  a  slumber,  was 
taken  by  the  shoulder  and  shaked  until  he  did  sit  up  in  his  bed, 
thinking  that  it  had  been  one  of  his  fellows,  when  suddenly  he  was 
taken  on  the  pate  with  a  trencher,  that  it  made  him  shrink  down 
into  the  bed-clothes,  and  all  of  them  in  both  rooms  kept  their 
heads  at  least  within  their  sheets,  so  fiercely  did  three  dozen  of 
trenchers  fly  about  the  rooms;  yet  Captain  Hart  ventured  again 
to  peep  out  to  see  what  was  the  matter,  and  what  it  was  that 
threw,  but  then  the  trenchers  came  so  fast  and  neer  about  his 
ears,  that  he  was  fain  quickly  to  couch  again.  In  the  morning 
they  found  all  their  trenchers,  pots,  and  spits  upon  and  about 
their  beds,  and  all  such  things  as  were  of  common  use  scattered 
about  the  rooms.  This  night  there  was  also,  in  several  parts  of 
the  room  and  outer  rooms,  such  noises  of  beating  at  doors  and 
on  the  walls,  as  if  that  several  smiths  had  been  at  work;  and  yet 
our  captains  shrunk  not  from  their  work,  but  went  on  in  that,  and 
lodged  as  they  had  done  before. 

October  21. — About  midnight  they  heard  great  knocking  at 
every  door ;  after  a  while  the  doors  flew  open,  and  into  the  with- 
drawing-room  entered  something  as  of  a  mighty  proportion,  the 
figure  of  it  they  knew  not  how  to  describe.  This  walkt  awhile  about 
the  room  shaking  the  floor  at  every  step,  then  came  it  up  close  to 
the  bedside  where  lay  Captains  Crook  and  Carelesse;  and  after  a 
little  pause,  as  it  were,  the  bed-curtains,  both  at  sides  and  feet, 
were  drawn  up  and  down  slowly,  then  faster  again  for  a  quarter 
of  an  hour,  then  from  end  to  end  as  fast  as  imagination  can  fancie 
the  running  of  the  rings,  then  shaked  it  the  beds,  as  if  the  joints 
thereof  had  crackt;  then  walkt  the  thing  into  the  bedchamber, 
and  so  plaied  with  those  beds  there;  then  took  up  eight  peuter 
dishes,  and  bouled  them  about  the  room  and  over  the  servants 
in  the  truckle-beds;  then  sometimes  were  the  dishes  taken  up  and 
thrown  crosse  the  high  beds  and  against  the  walls,  and  so  much 
battered;  but  there  were  more  dishes  wherein  was  meat  in  the 
same  room,  that  were  not  at  all  removed.    During  this,  in  the 

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presence-chamber  there  was  stranger  noise  of  weightie  things 
thrown  down,  and,  as  they  supposed,  the  clefts  of  the  King's  Oak 
did  roul  about  the  room,  yet  at  the  wonted  hour  went  away,  and 
left  them  to  take  rest  such  as  they  could. 

October  22.  —  Hath  mist  of  being  set  down;  the  officers,  im- 
ployed  in  their  work  farther  off,  came  not  that  day  to  Wood- 
stock. 

October  23.  —  Those  that  lodged  in  the  withdrawing-room,  in 
the  midst  of  the  night  were  awakened  with  the  cracking  of  fire, 
as  if  it  had  been  with  thorns  and  sparks  of  fire  burning,  where- 
upon they  supposed  that  the  bedchamber  had  taken  fire,  and 
listning  to  it  farther,  they  heard  their  fellows  in  bed  sadly  groan, 
which  gave  them  to  suppose  they  might  be  sufifocated;  wherefore 
they  called  upon  their  servants  to  make  all  possible  hast  to  help 
them.  When  the  two  servants  were  come  in,  they  found  all  asleep, 
and  so  brought  back  word,  but  that  there  were  no  bed  clothes 
upon  them ;  wherefore  they  were  sent  back  to  cover  them,  and  to 
stir  up  and  mend  the  fire.  When  the  servants  had  covered  them 
and  were  come  to  the  chimney,  in  the  comers  they  found  their 
wearing-apparel,  boots,  and  stockings,  but  they  had  no  sooner 
toucht  the  embers,  when  the  firebrands  flew  about  their  ears  so 
fast,  that  away  they  ran  into  the  other  room  for  the  shelter  of 
their  cover-lids;  then  after  them  walkt  something  that  stampt 
about  the  room  as  if  it  had  been  exceeding  angry,  and  likewise 
threw  about  the  trenchers,  platters,  and  all  such  things  in  the 
room ;  after  two  hours  went  out,  yet  stampt  again  over  their  heads. 

October  24.  —  They  lodged  all  abroad. 

October  25.  —  This  afternoon  was  come  unto  them  Mr.  Richard 
Crook  the  lawyer,  brother  to  Captain  Crook,  and  now  deputy- 
steward  of  the  mannor  unto  Captain  Parsons  and  Major  Bptler, 
who  had  put  out  Mr.  Hyans,  his  Majestie's  officer.  To  entertain 
this  new  guest,  the  Commissioners  caused  a  very  great  fire  to  be 
made,  of  neer  the  chimney-full  of  wood  of  the  King's  Oak,  and  he 
was  lodged  in  the  withdrawing-room  with  his  brother,  and  his  serv- 
ant in  the  same  room.  About  the  midst  of  the  night  a  wonderful 
knocking  was  heard,  and  into  the  room  something  did  rush,  which, 
coming  to  the  chimney-side,  dasht  out  the  fire  as  with  the  stamp 
of  some  prodigious  foot,  then  threw  down  such  weighty  stuffe, 
what  ere  it  was  (they  took  it  to  be  the  residue  of  the  clefts  and 
roots  of  the  King's  Oak),  close  by  the  bedside,  that  the  house  and 
bed  shook  with  it.  Captain  Cockain  and  his  fellow  arose,  and 
took  their  swords  to  go  unto  the  Crooks.  The  noise  ceased  at  their 

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rising,  so  that  they  came  to  the  door  and  called.  The  two  brothers, 
though  fully  awaked,  and  heard  them  call,  were  so  amazed,  that 
they  made  no  answer  until  Captain  Cockaine  had  recovered  the 
boldness  to  call  very  loud,  and  came  unto  the  bedside;  then  faintly 
first,  after  some  more  assurance,  they  came  to  understand  one 
another,  and  comforted  the  lawyer.  Whilst  this  was  thus,  no  noise 
was  heard,  which  made  them  think  the  time  was  past  of  that 
night's  troubles,  so  that,  after  some  little  conference,  they  applied 
themselves  to  take  some  rest.  When  Captain  Cockaine  was  come 
to  his  own  bed,  which  he  had  left  open,  he  found  it  closely 
covered,  which  he  much  wondered  at;  but  turning  the  clothes 
down,  and  opening  it  to  get  in,  he  found  the  lower  sheet  strewed 
over  with  trenchers.  Their  whole  three  dozens  of  trenchers  were  or- 
derly disposed  between  the  sheets,  which  he  and  his  fellow  en- 
deavouring to  cast  out,  such  noise  arose  about  the  room,  that  they 
were  glad  to  get  into  bed  with  some  of  the  trenchers.  The  noise 
lasted  a  full  half-hour  after  this.  This  entertainment  so  ill  did  like 
the  lawyer,  and  being  not  so  well  studied  in  the  point  as  to  re- 
solve this  the  devil's  law  case,  that  he  next  day  resolved  to  be  gone; 
but  having  not  dispatcht  all  that  he  came  for,  profit  and  perswa- 
sions  prevailed  with  him  to  stay  the  other  hearing,  so  that  he 
lodged  as  he  did  the  night  before. 

October  26.  — This  night  each  room  was  better  furnished  with 
fire  and  candle  than  before ;  yet  about  twelve  at  night  came  some- 
thing in  that  dasht  all  out,  then  did  walk  about  the  room,  making 
a  noise,  not  to  be  set  forth  by  the  comparison  with  any  other 
thing;  sometimes  came  it  to  the  bedsides  and  drew  the  curtains 
to  and  fro,  then  twerle  them,  then  walk  about  again,  and  return 
to  the  bed-posts,  shake  them  with  all  the  bed,  so  that  they  in  bed 
were  put  to  hold  one  upon  the  other,  then  walk  about  the  room 
again,  and  come  to  the  servants'  bed,  and  gnaw  and  scratch  the 
wainscot  head,  and  shake  altogether  in  that  room;  at  the  time  of 
this  being  in  doing,  they  in  the  bedchamber  heard  such  strange 
dropping  down  from  the  roof  of  the  room,  that  they  supposed 
't  was  like  the  fall  of  money  by  the  sound.  Captain  Cockaine, 
not  frightened  with  so  small  a  noise  (and  lying  near  the  chimney), 
stept  out,  and  made  shift  to  light  a  candle,  by  the  light  of  which 
he  perceived  the  room  strewed  over  with  broken  glass,  green,  and 
some  of  it  as  it  were  pieces  of  broken  bottles;  he  had  not  long  been 
considering  what  it  was,  when  suddenly  his  candle  was  hit  out, 
and  glass  flew  about  the  room,  that  he  made  haste  to  the  protec- 
tion of  the  coverlets;  the  noise  of  thundering  rose  more  hideous 

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then  at  any  time  before;  yet,  at  a  certain  time,  all  vanisht  into 
calmness.  The  morning  after  was  the  glass  about  the  room, 
which  the  maid  that  was  to  make  clean  the  rooms  swept  up  into 
a  corner,  and  many  came  to  see  it.  But  Mr.  Richard  Crook  would 
stay  no  longer,  yet  as  he  stopt,  going  through  Woodstock  town, 
he  was  heard  there  to  say,  that  he  would  not  lodge  amongst  them 
another  night  for  a  fee  of  £500. 

October  27.  —  The  Commissioners  had  not  yet  done  their  work, 
wherefore  they  must  stay;  and  being  all  men  of  the  sword,  they 
must  not  seem  afraid  to  encounter  with  any  thing,  though  it  be 
the  devil;  therefore,  with  pistols  charged,  and  drawn  swords  laied 
by  their  bedsides,  they  applied  themselves  to  take  some  rest,  when 
something  in  the  midst  of  night  so  opened  and  shut  the  window 
casements  with  such  claps,  that  it  awakened  all  that  slept;  some 
of  them  peeping  out  to  look  what  was  the  matter  with  the  win- 
dows, stones  flew  about  the  rooms  as  if  hurled  with  many  hands; 
some  hit  the  walls,  and  some  the  beds'  heads  close  above  the  pil- 
lows, the  dints  of  which  were  then,  and  yet  (it  is  conceived)  are 
to  be  seen,  thus  sometime  throwing  stones,  and  sometime  mak- 
ing thundering  noise,  for  two  hours  space.  It  ceast,  and  all  was 
quiet  till  the  morn.  After  their  rising,  and  the  maid  come  in  to 
make  the  fire,  they  looked  about  the  rooms;  they  found  fourscore 
stones  brought  in  that  night,  and  going  to  lay  them  together  in 
the  corner  where  the  glass  (before  mentioned)  had  been  swept  up, 
they  found  that  every  piece  of  glass  had  been  carried  away  that 
night.  Many  people  came  next  day  to  see  the  stones,  and  all  ob- 
served that  they  were  not  of  such  kind  of  stones  as  are  naturall 
in  the  countrey  thereabout ;  with  these  were  noise  like  claps  of 
thunder,  or  report  of  cannon  planted  against  the  rooms,  heard  by 
all  that  lodged  in  the  outer  courts,  to  their  astonishment  and  at 
Woodstock  town,  taken  to  be  thunder. 

October  28.  —  This  night,  both  strange  and  differing  noise  from 
the  former  first  wakened  Captain  Hart,  who  lodged  in  the  bed- 
chamber, who,  hearing  Roe  and  Browne  to  groan,  called  out  to 
Cockaine  and  Crook  to  come  and  help  them,  for  Hart  could  not 
now  stir  himself;  Cockaine  would  faine  have  answered,  but  he 
could  not,  or  look  about;  something,  he  thought,  stopt  both  his 
breath  and  held  down  his  eyelids.  Amazed  thus,  he  struggles  and 
kickt  about,  till  he  had  awaked  Captain  Crook,  who,  half  asleep, 
grew  very  angry  at  his  kicks  and  multiplied  words.  It  grew  to  an 
appointment  in  the  field;  but  this  fully  recovered  Cockaine  to  re- 
member that  Captain  Hart  had  called  for  help,  wherefore  to  them 

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he  ran  in  the  other  room,  whom  he  found  sadly  groaning,  where, 
scraping  in  the  chimney,  he  both  found  a  candle  and  fire  to  light 
it;  but  had  not  gone  two  steps,  when  something  blew  the  candle 
out,  and  threw  him  in  the  chair  by  the  bedside,  when  presently 
cried  out  Captain  Carelesse,  with  a  most  pittiful  voice,  '  Come 
hither  —  Ocomehither,  brother  Cockaine,  the  thing's  gone  of  me.' 
Cockaine,  scarce  yet  himself,  helpt  to  set  him  up  in  his  bed,  and 
after  Captain  Hart,  and  having  scarce  done  that  to  them,  and 
also  to  the  other  two,  they  heard  Captain  Crook  crying  out,  as  if 
something  had  been  killing  him.  Cockaine  snacht  up  the  sword 
that  lay  by  their  bed,  and  ran  into  the  room  to  save  Crook,  but 
was  in  much  more  likelyhood  to  kill  him,  for  at  his  coming,  the 
thing  that  pressed  Crook  went  of  him,  at  which  Crook  started 
out  of  his  bed,  whom  Cockaine  thought  a  spirit,  made  at  him,  at 
which  Crook  cried  out,  'Lord  help  —  Lord  save  me.'  Cockaine 
let  fall  his  hand,  and  Crook,  embracing  Cockaine,  desired  his 
reconcilement,  giving  him  many  thanks  for  his  deliverance.  Then 
rose  they  all  and  came  together,  discoursed  sometimes  godly  and 
sometimes  praied,  for  all  this  while  was  there  such  stamping  over 
the  roof  of  the  house,  as  if  looo  horse  had  there  been  trotting;  this 
night  all  the  stones  brought  in  the  night  before,  and  laid  up  in  the 
withdrawing-room,  were  all  carried  again  away  by  that  which 
brought  them  in,  which  at  the  wonted  time  left  of,  and,  as  it  were, 
went  out,  and  so  away. 

October  29.  —  Their  businesse  having  now  received  so  much 
forwardnesse  as  to  be  neer  dispatcht,  they  encouraged  one  the 
other,  and  resolved  to  try  further;  therefore,  they  provided  more 
lights  and  fires,  and  further,  for  their  assistance,  prevailed  with 
their  ordinary-keeper  to  lodge  amongst  them,  and  bring  his  mas- 
tive  bitch;  and  it  was  so  this  night  with  them,  that  they  had  no 
disturbance  at  all. 

October  30.  —  So  well  they  had  past  the  night  before,  that  this 
night  they  went  to  bed  confident  and  carelesse;  untill  about  twelve 
of  the  clock,  something  knockt  at  the  door  as  with  a  smith's  great 
hammer,  but  with  such  force  as  if  it  had  cleft  the  door;  then  ent'red 
something  like  a  bear,  but  seem'd  to  swell  more  big,  and  walkt 
about  the  room,  and  out  of  one  room  into  the  other,  treading  so 
heavily,  as  the  floare  had  not  been  strong  enough  to  bear  it.  When 
it  came  into  the  bedchamber,  it  dasht  against  the  beds'  heads  some 
kind  of  glass  vessell,  that  broke  in  sundry  pieces,  and  sometimes 
would  take  up  those  pieces  and  hurle  them  about  the  room,  and 
into  the  other  room;  and  when  it  did  not  hurle  the  glasse  at  their 

320 


APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION 

heads,  it  did  strike  upon  the  tables,  as  if  many  smiths,  with  their 
greatest  hammers,  had  been  laying  on  as  upon  an  anvil;  sometimes 
it  thumpt  against  the  walls  as  if  it  would  beat  a  hole  through; 
then  upon  their  heads,  such  stamping,  as  if  the  roof  of  the  house 
were  beating  down  upon  their  heads;  and  having  done  thus,  dur- 
ing the  space  (as  was  conjectured)  of  two  hours,  it  ceased  and 
vanished,  but  with  a  more  fierce  shutting  of  the  doors  then  at  any 
time  before.  In  the  morning  they  found  the  pieces  of  glass  about 
the  room,  and  observed  that  it  was  much  differing  from  that  glasse 
brought  in  three  nights  before,  this  being  of  a  much  thicker  sub- 
stance, which  severall  persons  which  came  in  carried  away  some 
pieces  of.  The  Commissioners  were  in  debate  of  lodging  there  no 
more;  but  all  their  businesse  was  not  done,  and  some  of  them,  were 
so  conceited  as  to  believe,  and  to  attribute  the  rest  they  enjoyed, 
the  night  before  this  last,  unto  the  mastive  bitch;  wherefore,  they 
resolved  to  get  more  company,  and  the  mastive  bitch,  and  try 
another  night. 

October  31.  —  This  night,  the  fires  and  lights  prepared,  the  or- 
dinary-keeper and  his  bitch,  with  another  man  perswaded  by  him, 
they  all  took  their  beds  and  fell  asleep.  But  about  twelve  at  night, 
such  rapping  was  on  all  sides  of  them,  that  it  wakened  all  of  them; 
as  the  doors  did  seem  to  open,  the  mastive  bitch  fell  fearfully 
a-yelling,  and  presently  ran  fiercely  into  the  bed  to  them  in  the 
truckle-bed;  as  the  thing  came  by  the  table,  it  struck  so  fierce 
a  blow  on  that,  as  that  it  made  the  frame  to  crack,  then  took  the 
warming-pan  from  off  the  table,  and  stroke  it  against  the  walls 
with  so  much  force  as  that  it  was  beat  flat  together,  lid  and  bot- 
tom. Now  were  they  hit  as  they  lay  covered  over  head  and  ears 
within  the  bed-clothes.  Captain  Carelesse  was  taken  a  sound 
blow  on  the  head  with  the  shoulder-blade  bone  of  a  dead  horse 
(before  they  had  been  but  thrown  at,  when  they  peept  up,  and 
mist) ;  Browne  had  a  shrewed  blow  on  the  leg  with  the  backbone, 
and  another  on  the  head;  and  every  one  of  them  felt  severall  blows 
of  bones  and  stones  through  the  bed-clothes,  for  now  these  things 
were  thrown  as  from  an  angry  hand  that  meant  further  mischief; 
the  stones  flew  in  at  window  as  shot  out  of  a  gun,  nor  was  the 
bursts  lesse  (as  from  without)  then  of  a  cannon,  and  all  the  win- 
dows broken  down.  Now  as  the  hurling  of  the  things  did  cease, 
and  the  thing  walkt  up  and  down,  Captain  Cockaine  and  Hart 
cried  out,  in  the  name  of  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,  what 
are  you?  What  would  you  have?  What  have  we  done  that  you 
disturb  us  thus?  No  voice  replied,  as  the  captains  said,  yet  some 

87  321 


APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION 

of  their  servants  have  said  otherwise,  and  the  noise  ceast.  Here- 
upon Captain  Hart  and  Cockaine  rose,  who  lay  in  the  bedchamber, 
renewed  the  fire  and  lights,  and  one  great  candle,  in  a  candlestick, 
they  placed  in  the  door,  that  might  be  seen  by  them  in  both  the 
rooms.  No  sooner  were  they  got  to  bed,  but  the  noise  arose  on 
all  sides  more  loud  and  hideous  than  at  any  time  before,  inso- 
much as  (to  use  the  captain's  own  words)  it  returned  and  brought 
seven  devils  worse  than  itself;  and  presently  they  saw  the  candle 
and  candlestick  in  the  passage  of  the  door  dasht  up  to  the  roof 
of  the  room  by  a  kick  of  the  hinder  parts  of  a  horse,  and  after  with 
the  hoof  trode  out  the  snuff,  and  so  dasht  out  the  fire  in  the  chim- 
nies.  As  this  was  done,  there  fell,  as  from  the  sieling,  upon  them  in 
the  truckle-beds,  such  quantities  of  water,  as  if  it  had  been  poured 
out  of  buckets,  which  stunk  worse  than  any  earthly  stink  could 
make;  and  as  this  was  in  doing,  something  crept  under  the  high 
beds,  tost  them  up  to  the  roof  of  the  house,  with  the  Commission- 
ers in  them,  until  the  testers  of  the  beds  were  beaten  down  upon 
and  the  bedsted-frames  broke  under  them;  and  here  some  pause 
being  made,  they  all,  as  if  with  one  consent,  started  up,  and  ran 
down  the  stairs  until  they  came  into  the  Councel  Hall,  where  two 
sate  up  a-brewing,  but  now  were  fallen  asleep;  those  they  scared 
much  with  wakening  of  them,  having  been  much  perplext  before 
with  the  strange  noise,  which  commonly  was  taken  by  them  abroad 
for  thunder,  sometimes  for  rumbling  wind.  Here  the  Captains  and 
their  company  got  fire  and  candle,  and  everyone  carrjdng  some- 
thing of  either,  they  returned  into  the  Presence  Chamber,  where 
some  applied  themselves  to  make  the  fire,  whilst  others  fell  to 
prayers,  and  having  got  some  clothes  about  them,  they  spent  the 
residue  of  the  night  in  singing  psalms  and  prayers;  during  which, 
no  noise  was  in  that  room,  but  most  hideously  round  about,  as  at 
some  distance. 

It  should  have  been  told  before,  how  that,  when  Captain  Hart 
first  rose  this  night  (who  lay  in  the  bedchamber  next  the  fire),  he 
found  their  book  of  valuations  crosse  the  embers  smoaking,  which 
he  snacht  up  and  cast  upon  the  table  there,  which  the  night  before 
was  left  upon  the  table  in  the  presence  amongst  their  other  papers. 
This  book  was  in  the  morning  found  a  handful  burnt,  and  had 
burnt  the  table  where  it  lay;  Browne,  the  clerk,  said,  he  would  not 
for  a  ICO  and  a  £ioo  that  it  had  been  burnt  a  handful  further. 

This  night  it  happened  that  there  were  six  cony-stealers,  who 
were  come  with  their  nets  and  ferrets  to  the  cony-burrows  by 
Rosamond's  Well;  but  with  the  noise  this  night  from  the  mannor- 

322 


APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION 

house,  they  were  so  terrified,  that  like  men  distracted  away  they 
ran,  and  left  their  haies  all  ready  pitched,  ready  up,  and  the  fer- 
rets in  the  cony-burrows. 

Now  the  Commissioners,  more  sensible  of  their  danger,  con- 
sidered more  seriously  of  their  safety,  and  agreed  to  go  and  confer 
with  Mr.  Hoffman,  the  minister  of  Wotton  (a  man  not  of  the 
meanest  note  for  life  or  learning,  by  some  esteemed  more  high), 
to  desire  his  advice,  together  with  his  company  and  prayers.  Mr. 
Hoffman  held  it  too  high  a  point  to  resolve  on  suddenly  and  by 
himself,  wherefore  desired  time  to  consider  upon  it,  which  being 
agreed  unto,  he  forthwith  rode  to  Mr.  Jenkinson  and  Mr.  Wheat, 
the  two  next  justices  of  peace,  to  try  what  warrant  they  could  give 
him  for  it.  They  both  (as  't  is  said  from  themselves)  encouraged 
him  to  be  assisting  to  the  Commissioners,  according  to  his  calling. 

But  certain  it  is  that,  when  they  came  to  fetch  him  to  go  with 
them,  Mr.  Hoffman  answered,  that  he  would  not  lodge  there  one 
night  for  £500,  and  being  asked  to  pray  with  them,  he  held  up  his 
hands  and  said,  that  he  would  not  meddle  upon  any  terms. 

Mr.  Hoffman  refusing  to  undertake  the  quarrel,  the  Commis- 
sioners held  it  not  safe  to  lodge  where  they  had  been  thus  enter- 
tained any  longer,  but  caused  all  things  to  be  removed  into  the 
chambers  over  the  gatehouse,  where  they  staid  but  one  night,  and 
what  rest  they  enjoyed  there,  we  have  but  an  uncertain  relation 
of,  for  they  went  away  early  the  next  morning.  But  if  it  may  be 
held  fit  to  set  down  what  hath  been  delivered  by  the  report  of 
others,  they  were  also  the  same  night  much  affrighted  with  dread- 
ful apparitions,  but  observing  that  these  passages  spread  much  in 
discourse,  to  be  also  in  particulars  taken  notice  of,  and  that  the 
nature  of  it  made  not  for  their  cause,  they  agreed  to  the  concealing 
of  things  for  the  future;  yet  this  is  well-known  and  certain,  that  the 
gate-keeper's  wife  was  in  so  strange  an  agony  in  her  bed,  and  in 
her  bedchamber  such  noise  (whilst  her  husband  was  above  with 
the  Commissioners) ,  that  two  maids  in  the  next  room  to  her  durst 
not  venture  to  assist  her,  but  affrighted  ran  out  to  call  company, 
and  their  master,  and  found  the  woman  (at  their  coming  in)  gasp- 
ing for  breath;  and  the  next  day  said,  that  she  saw  and  suffered 
that  which  for  all  the  world  she  would  not  be  hired  to  again. 

From  Woodstock  the  Commissioners  removed  unto  Euelme, 
and  some  of  them  returned  to  Woodstock  the  Sunday  se'nnight 
after  (the  book  of  valuations  wanting  something  that  was  for 
haste  left  imperfect),  but  lodged  not  in  any  of  those  rooms  where 
they  had  lain  before,  and  yet  were  not  unvisited  (as  they  confess 

323 


APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION 

themselves)  by  the  devil,  whom  they  called  their  nightly  guest. 
Captain  Crook,  came  not  untill  Tuesday  night,  and  how  he  sped 
that  night  the  gate-keeper's  wife  can  tell  if  she  dareth,  but  what 
she  hath  whispered  to  her  gossips  shall  not  be  made  a  part  of  this 
our  narrative,  nor  many  more  particulars  which  have  fallen  from 
the  Commissioners  themselves  and  their  servants  to  other  persons. 
They  are  all  or  most  of  them  alive,  and  may  add  to  it  when  they 
please,  and  surely  have  not  a  better  way  to  be  revenged  of  him 
who  troubled  them,  than  according  to  the  proverb,  tell  truth 
and  shame  the  devil. 

There  remains  this  observation  to  be  added,  that  on  a  Wednes- 
day morning  all  these  officers  went  away;  and  that  since  them 
diverse  persons  of  severall  qualities  have  lodged  often  and  some- 
times long  in  the  same  rooms,  both  in  the  presence,  withdrawing- 
room,  and  bedchamber  belonging  unto  his  sacred  Majesty;  yet 
none  have  had  the  least  disturbance,  or  heard  the  smallest  noise, 
for  which  the  cause  was  not  as  ordinary  as  apparent,  except  the 
Commissioners  and  their  company,  who  came  in  order  to  the 
ahenating  and  pulling  down  the  house,  which  is  wellnigh  per- 
formed. 

A  SHORT   SURVEY   OF  WOODSTOCK,   NOT  TAKEN   BY 
ANY  OF  THE  BEFORE-MENTIONED  COMMISSIONERS 

The  noble  scat  called  Woodstock  is  one  of  the  ancient  honours 
belonging  to  the  crown.  Severall  mannors  owe  suite  and  service 
to  the  place;  but  the  custom  of  the  countrey  giving  it  but  the  title 
of  a  mannor,  we  shall  erre  with  them  to  be  the  better  understood. 

The  mannor-house  hath  been  a  large  fabrick,  and  accounted 
amongst  his  RIajestie's  standing  houses,  because  there  was  al- 
waies  kept  a  standing  furniture.  This  great  house  was  built  by 
King  Henry  the  First,  but  ampleyfied  with  the  gate-house  and 
outsides  of  the  outer  court  by  King  Henry  the  Seventh,  the  stables 
by  King  James. 

About  a  bow-shoot  from  the  gate  south-west  remain  foundation 
signs  of  that  structure  erected  by  King  Henry  the  Second  for  the 
security  of  Lady  Rosamond,  daughter  or  Walter  Lord  Clifford, 
which  some  poets  have  compared  to  the  Dedalian  labyrinth,  but 
the  form  and  circuit  both  of  the  place  and  ruins  shew  it  to  have 
been  a  house  and  of  one  pile,  perhaps  of  strength,  according  to  the 
fashion  of  those  times,  and  probably  was  fitted  with  secret  places 
of  recess,  and  avenues  to  hide  or  convey  away  such  persons  as 

324 


APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION 

were  not  willing  to  be  found  if  narrowly  sought  after.  About  the 
midst  of  the  place  ariseth  a  spring,  called  at  present  Rosamond's 
Well;  it  is  but  shallow,  and  shews  to  have  been  paved  and  walled 
about,  likely  contrived  for  the  use  of  them  within  the  house,  when 
it  should  be  of  danger  to  go  out. 

A  quarter  of  a  mile  distant  from  the  king's  house  is  seated 
Woodstock  town,  new  and  old.  This  new  Woodstock  did  arise 
by  some  buildings  which  Henry  the  Second  gave  leave  to  be 
erected  (as  received  by  tradition)  at  the  suite  of  the  Lady  Rosa- 
mond, for  the  use  of  out-servants  upon  the  wastes  of  the  mannor 
of  Bladon,  where  is  the  mother  church;  this  is  a  hamlet  belonging 
to  it,  though  encreased  to  a  market-town  by  the  advantage  of  the 
Court  residing  sometime  near,  which  of  late  years  they  have  been 
sensible  of  the  want  of;  this  town  was  made  a  corporation  in  the 
nth  year  of  Henry  the  Sixth,  by  charter,  with  power  to  send  two 
burgesses  to  parliament  or  not,  as  they  will  themselves. 

Old  Woodstock  is  seated  on  the  west  side  of  the  brook  named 
Glyme,  which  also  runneth  through  the  park;  the  town  consists  not 
of  above  four  or  five  houses,  but  it  is  to  be  conceived  that  it  hath 
been  much  larger,  but  very  anciently  so,  for  in  some  old  law  his- 
torians there  is  mention  of  the  assize  at  Woodstock,  for  a  law  made 
in  a  Micelgemote  (the  name  of  parliaments  before  the  coming  of 
the  Norman)  in  the  days  of  King  Ethelred. 

And  in  like  manner,  that  thereabout  was  a  king's  house,  if  not  in 
the  same  place  where  Henry  the  First  built  the  late  standing  pile 
before  his;  for  in  such  days  those  great  councils  were  commonly 
held  in  the  king's  palaces.  Some  of  those  lands  have  belonged  to 
the  orders  of  the  Knights  Templers,  there  being  records  which 
call  them  terras  quas  rex  excambiavit  cum  Templariis. 

But  now  this  late  large  mannor-house  is  in  a  manner  almost 
turned  into  heaps  of  rubbish;  some  seven  or  eight  rooms  left  for 
the  accommodation  of  a  tenant  that  should  rent  the  king's  med- 
ows  (of  those  who  had  no  power  to  let  them),  with  several  high 
uncovered  walls  standing,  the  prodigious  spectacles  of  malice  unto 
monarchy,  which  ruines  still  bear  semblance  of  their  state,  and 
yet  aspire,  in  spight  of  envy  or  of  weather,  to  show,  What  kings 
do  build,  subjects  may  sometimes  shake,  but  utterly  can  never 
overthrow. 

That  part  of  the  park  called  the  High-Park  hath  been  lately 
subdivided  by  Sir  Arthur  Haselrig,  to  make  pastures  for  his  breed 
of  colts,  and  other  parts  plowed  up.  Of  the  whole  saith  Roffus 
Warwicensis,  in  MS.  Hen.  I.,  p.  122,  Fecit  iste  rex  par  cum  de 

325 


APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION 

Woodstock,  cum  palatio  infra  prcBdictutn  parcum,  qui  parens  erat 
primus  parcus  Anglia;,  et  continet  in  circuitu  septcm  miliaria;  con- 
structus  erat  amio  14  hujus  regis,  aut  parum  post.  Without  the 
park  the  king's  demesne  woods  were,  it  cannot  well  be  said  now 
are,  the  timber  being  all  sold  off,  and  underwoods  so  cropt  and 
spoiled  by  that  beast  the  Lord  Munson,  and  other  greedy  cat- 
tel,  that  they  are  hardly  recoverable.  Beyond  which  lieth  Stone- 
field,  and  other  manners  that  hold  of  Woodstock,  with  other 
woods,  that  have  been  aliened  by  former  kings,  but  with  reserva- 
tion of  liberty  for  his  Majestie's  deer,  and  other  beasts  of  forrest, 
to  harbour  in  at  pleasure,  as  in  due  place  is  to  be  shewed. 


NOTES 

Note  i,  p.  ii 

See  Vindication  of  the  Book  of  Common  Prayer,  against  the  con- 
tumelious Slanders  of  the  Fanatic  Party  terming  it  Porridge. 

The  author  of  this  singular  and  rare  tract  indulges  in  the  alle- 
gorical style,  till  he  fairly  hunts  down  the  allegory. 

'But  as  for  what  you  call  porridge,  who  hatched  the  name  I 
know  not,  neither  is  it  worth  the  enquiring  after,  for  I  hold  por- 
ridge good  food.  It  is  better  to  a  sick  man  than  meat,  for  a  sick 
man  will  sooner  eat  pottage  than  meat.  Pottage  will  digest  with 
him  when  meat  will  not:  pottage  will  nourish  the  blood,  fill  the 
veins,  run  into  every  part  of  a  man,  make  him  warmer;  so  will 
these  prayers  do,  set  our  soul  and  body  in  a  heat,  warm  our  devo- 
tioij,  work  fervency  in  us,  lift  up  our  soul  to  God.  For  there  be 
herbs  of  God's  own  planting  in  our  pottage  as  you  call  it  —  the 
Ten  Commandments,  dainty  herbs  to  season  any  pottage  in  the 
world:  there  is  the  Lord's  Prayer,  and  that  is  a  most  sweet  pot- 
herb cannot  be  denied;  then  there  is  also  David's  herbs,  his  pray- 
ers and  psalms,  helps  to  make  our  pottage  relish  well;  the  psalm 
of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  a  good  pot-herb.  Though  they  be,  as  some 
term  them,  cock-crowed  pottage,  yet  they  are  as  sweet,  as  good,  as 
dainty,  and  as  fresh  as  they  were  at  the  first.  The  sun  hath  not 
made  them  sour  with  its  heat,  neither  hath  the  cold  water  taken 
away  their  vigour  and  strength.  Compare  them  with  the  Script- 
ures, and  see  if  they  be  not  as  well  seasoned  and  crumbed.  If  you 
find  anything  in  them  that  is  either  too  salt,  too  fresh,  or  too  bit- 
ter, that  herb  shall  be  taken  out  and  better  put  in,  if  it  can  be  got, 
or  none.  And  as  in  kitchen  pottage  there  are  many  good  herbs,  so 
there  is  likewise  in  this  church  pottage,  as  you  call  it.  For  first, 
there  is  in  kitchen  pottage  good  water  to  make  them  so;  on  the 
contrary,  in  the  other  pottage  there  is  the  water  of  life.  2.  There 
is  salt  to  season  them;  so  in  the  other  is  a  prayer  of  grace  to  season 
their  hearts.  3.  There  is  oatmeal  to  nourish  the  body;  in  the  other 
is  the  bread  of  life.  4.  There  is  thyme  in  them  to  relish  them,  and 
it  is  very  wholesome;  in  the  other  is  the  wholesome  exhortation 
not  to  harden  our  heart  while  it  is  called  to-day.  This  relisheth 
well.   5.  There  is  a  small  onion  to  give  a  taste;  in  the  other  is  a 

327 


NOTES 

good  herb,  called  Lord  have  mercy  on  us.  These  and  many  other 
holy  herbs  are  contained  in  it,  all  boiling  in  the  heart  of  man, 
will  make  as  good  pottage  as  the  world  can  afford,  especially  if 
you  use  these  herbs  for  digestion  —  the  herb  repentance,  the  herb 
grace,  the  herb  faith,  the  herb  love,  the  herb  hope,  the  herb  good 
works,  the  herb  feeling,  the  herb  zeal,  the  herb  fervency,  the  herb 
ardency,  the  herb  constancy,  with  many  more  of  this  nature,  most 
excellent  for  digestion.' 

Ohe  I  jam  satis.  In  this  manner  the  learned  divine  hunts  his 
metaphor  at  a  very  cold  scent,  through  a  pamphlet  of  six  mortal 
quarto  pages. 

Note  2,  p.  264 

Rere-suppers  (quasi  arrive)  belonged  to  a  species  of  luxury 
introduced  in  the  jolly  days  of  King  James's  extravagance,  and 
continued  through  the  subsequent  reign.  The  supper  took  place 
at  an  early  hour,  six  or  seven  o'clock  at  latest;  the  rere-supper 
was  a  postliminary  banquet  —  a  hors  d'  ceuvre,  which  made  its 
appearance  at  ten  or  eleven,  and  served  as  an  apology  for  pro- 
longing the  entertainment  till  midnight. 

Note  3,  p.  289 

Michael  Hudson,'the '  plain-dealing '  chaplain  of  King  Charles  I, 
resembled,  in  his  loyalty  to  that  unfortunate  monarch,  the  fic- 
titious character  of  Doctor  Rochecliffe;  and  the  circumstances  of 
his  death  were  copied  in  the  narrative  of  the  Presbyterian's  ac- 
count of  the  slaughter  of  his  schoolfellow.  He  was  chosen  by 
Charles  I,  along  with  John  Ashburnham,  as  his  guide  and  attend- 
ant, when  he  adopted  the  ill-advised  resolution  of  siurendering 
his  person  to  the  Scots  army. 

He  was  taken  prisoner  by  the  Parliament,  remained  long  in 
their  custody,  and  was  treated  with  great  severity.  He  made  his 
escape  for  about  a  year  in  1647,  was  retaken,  and  again  escaped 
in  1648;  and,  heading  an  insurrection  of  Cavaliers,  seized  on  a 
strong  moated  house  in  Lincolnshire,  called  Woodford  House. 
He  gained  the  place  without  resistance;  and  there  are  among 
Peck's  Desiderata  Curiosa  several  accounts  of  his  death,  among 
which  we  shall  transcribe  that  of  Bishop  Kennett,  as  the  most 
correct  and  concise:  — 

'"I  have  been  on  the  spot,"  saith  his  lordship,  "and  made  all 

328 


NOTES 

possible  enquiries,  and  find  that  the  relation  given  by  Mr.  Wood 
may  be  a  little  rectified  and  supplied. 

'"Mr.  Hudson  and  his  beaten  party  did  not  fly  to  Woodford, 
but  had  quietly  taken  possession  of  it,  and  held  it  for  a  garrison, 
with  a  good  party  of  horse,  who  made  a  stout  defence,  and  fre- 
quent sallies,  against  a  party  of  the  Parliament  at  Stanford,  till 
the  colonel  commanding  them  sent  a  stronger  detachment,  under 
a  captain,  his  own  kinsman,  who  was  shot  from  the  house,  upon 
which  the  colonel  himself  came  up  to  renew  the  attack,  and  de- 
mand surrendry,  and  brought  them  to  capitulate  upon  terms 
of  safe  quarter.  But  the  colonel,  in  base  revenge,  commanded 
that  they  should  not  spare  that  rogue  Hudson.  Upon  which 
Hudson  fought  his  way  up  to  the  leads;  and  when  he  saw  they 
were  pushing  in  upon  him,  threw  himself  over  the  battlements 
[another  account  says  he  caught  hold  of  a  spout  or  outstone], 
and  hung  by  the  hands  as  intending  to  fall  into  the  moat  beneath, 
till  they  cut  off  his  wrists  and  let  him  drop,  and  then  ran  down  to 
hunt  him  in  the  water,  where  they  found  him  paddling  with  his 
stumps,  and  barbarously  knocked  him  on  the  head."'  —  Peck's 
Desiderata  Curiosa,  Book  ix. 

Other  accounts  mention  he  was  refused  the  poor  charity  of 
coming  to  die  on  land,  by  one  Egborough,  servant  to  Mr.  Spinks, 
the  intruder  into  the  parsonage.  A  man  called  Walker,  a  chandler 
or  grocer,  cut  out  the  tongue  of  the  unfortunate  divine,  and 
showed  it  as  a  trophy  through  the  country.  But  it  was  remarked, 
with  vindictive  satisfaction,  that  Egborough  was  killed  by  the 
bursting  of  his  own  gun;  and  that  Walker,  obliged  to  abandon  his 
trade  through  poverty,  became  a  scorned  mendicant. 

For  some  time  a  grave  was  not  vouchsafed  to  the  remains  of  this 
brave  and  loyal  divine,  till  one  of  the  other  party  said, '  Since  he  is 
dead,  let  him  be  buried.' 


GLOSSARY 


adjutator,  an '  agitator,'  a  Parliament- 
ary soldier  chosen  to  look  after  the 
common  interests  of  a  band. 

adust,  looking  as  if  burned  or 
scorched. 

ail,  prevent. 

alert,  alerte,  an  alarm,  an  intima- 
tion of  danger. 

alicant,  a  strong,  sweet  Spanish  wine. 

ambagitory,  with  circumlocution. 

an,  if. 

Andrew  Ferrara,  a  Scottish  broad- 
sword. 

bent  brow,  a  wrinkled  or  knit  brow. 

bilbo,  bilboa,  a  rapier. 

bilk,  trick. 

black-jack,  a  large  beer  jug,  usually 
made  of  waxed  leather,  but  some- 
times of  metal. 

boulters,  boulders,  large  stones. 

bow-pot,  a  pot  or  vase  for  holding 
boughs  or  flowers. 

brown  baker,  a  baker  of  brown  bread. 

buff  and  bandalier,  military  attire. 

buff-coat,  a  stout  coat  of  buff  leather. 

busle,  to  bustle. 

buss,  a  kiss. 

cartel,  a  challenge. 

cast,  a  touch,  a  stroke. 

castor,  a  beaver  hat. 

chouse,  cheat,  defraud. 

clefts,  wood  split  up  for  fuel. 

clout,  swaddling  clothes. 

counter,  to  hunt,  to  hunt  backward 

along  the  way  that  game  has  come. 
cross,  a  piece  of  money  stamped  with 

a  cross. 
cuckoldy,  sneaking. 
culverin,  an  early  form  of  cannon. 

dowsets,  doucets,  the  testicles  of  a 
deer. 


dudgeon-dagger,  a  small  dagger  with 

a  haft  of  boxwood. 
Duke  of  Norfolk,  a  fencing  term, 
dunny,  dull  of  apprehension,  stupid. 

enow,  enough. 

foin,  to  thrust  in  fencing. 

fox,  an  old  slang  expression    for  a 

sword. 
frank,  a  pen,  a  pig-sty. 

galloway,  a  small  horse,  originally 
bred  in  the  old  county  of  Gallo- 
way. 

gear,  matter,  business. 

grout-head,  growt-head,  a  lout,  a 
blockhead. 

gudgeon,  to  cheat,  to  impose  upon. 

hale,  a  snare  for  catching  rabbits,  etc. 
halberd,  a  combination  of  spear  and 

battle-axe. 
hot,  hit. 

jack-pudding,  a  buffoon  or  merry- 
andrew,  who  performed  common 
conjuring  tricks. 

jerkin,  a  close-fitting  jacket, 

joal,  to  dash  violently. 

lave,  to  lift  up  water  and  pour  it  into 
a  utensil,  to  lade  out. 

leading-staff,  a  staff  carried  by  a 
commanding  ofiScer. 

leaguer,  a  camp. 

leak,  to  void  urine. 

levant,  a  signal  given  with  a  trumpet. 

lindabrides,  a  woman  of  light  repu- 
tation. 

maik,  make,  a  halfpenny. 
makebate,  one  who  stirs  up  quarrels 
and  dissensions. 


331 


GLOSSARY 


manchet,  a  small  loaf  of  fine  white 

bread. 
maravedi,  an    old    Spanish    copper 

coin, 
mew,  to  shut  up. 
muscadine,  a  sweet  strong  wine  made 

in  Italy  and  France. 

natheless,  nevertheless. 

noble,  a  gold  coin  worth  6s.  8d. 

nullifidian,  one  who  believes  nothing, 

an  unbeliever. 
nuzle,  nuzzle,  to  hide  the  head  under 

the  bedclothes. 

oaf,  a  dolt. 

odds  pittikinsl  a    kind  of   oath,   a 
corruption  of  "God's  pityl" 

parcel,  partly. 

passado,  a  forward  thrust  in  fencing. 

penny  fee,  wages. 

periapt,  an  amulet,  a  charm. 

petard,  a  military  engine  for  holding 

an  explosive  material,  and  used  for 

bursting  open  doors  and  gates. 
petronel,  a  horseman's  pistol  or  small 

carbine. 
philomath,  a  prognosticator. 
pollard,  a  tree  that  has  been  polled  or 

cut  back. 
pottle,  a  tankard  containing  about 

two  quarts. 

quarter-staff,  a  stout  pole  six  to  eight 

feet  long  and  tipped  with  iron. 
quean,  a  wench,  a  light  woman. 

rochet,  rocket,  a  short  cloak. 

rood,  a  cross. 

Rota,  an  ecclesiastical  tribunal  from 

which  there  is  no  appeal  except  to 

the  Pope. 
rouse,  a  bumper. 


sack-posset,  a  drink  made  of  canary 

wine,  milk,  etc. 
sasine  and  livery,  an  old  legal  form  of 

conveying  land,  etc. 
Saunders  gardner,  a  fencing  term, 
scumber,  to  dung. 
shog,  to  shake,  to  move, 
siserary,  a  telling  blow,  a  vehement 

attack. 
slie,  sly. 

spayed,  castrated. 
stead,  serve,  assist. 
stir,  to  be  disturbed, 
stoup,  a  drinking  vessel,  a  tankard, 
swatter,  to  splutter. 

tire   upon,    to   siege   and   tear   the 

quarry. 
Toledo,  a  sword  made  at  Toledo,  in 

Spain. 
topiary   art,   the   art   of   landscape 

gardening. 
trevisse,  the  division  between  stalls, 
trinidado,  tobacco  from  Trinidad, 
truncheon,  a  short  staff. 
tuck-sword,  a  long  narrow  sword,  a 

rapier. 

umbles,  biunbles,  the  entrails  of  a 

deer, 
unbated,    not    blunted,    without    a 

button. 
Utopia,  an  ideal  state,  with  an  ideal 

society  and  an  ideal  government. 

verdurer,  the  officer  who  had  charge 
of  the  trees  and  underwood  in  a 
royal  forest. 

vert  and  venison,  the  trees  of  a  forget 
and  the  game  among  them. 

wanion,  with  ft.  with  a  vengeance, 

weird,  fate. 

whittle,  a  large  knife. 


END  OF  VOLUME  I 


WOODSTOCK 


BY 


SIR  WALTER  SCOTT 


VOLUME  II 


BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 
HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 


COPYRIGHT,    1 9 13 
BY  HOUGHTON  MimiN   COMPANY 

ALL   RIGHTS   RESERVED 


WOODSTOCK 

OR 

THE  CAVALIER 
VOLUME  II 


WOODSTOCK 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

Then  are  the  harpies  gone.  Yet  ere  we  perch 
Where  such  foul  birds  have  roosted,  let  us  cleanse 
The  foul  obscenity  they  've  left  behind  them. 

Agamemnon. 

The  embassy  of  Wildrake  had  been  successful,  chiefly 
through  the  mediation  of  the  Episcopal  divine,  whom  we 
formerly  found  acting  in  the  character  of  a  chaplain  to 
the  family,  and  whose  voice  had  great  influence  on  many 
accounts  with  its  master. 

A  httle  before  high  noon,  Sir  Henry  Lee,  with  his 
small  household,  were  again  in  unchallenged  possession 
of  their  old  apartments  at  the  lodge  of  Woodstock ;  and 
the  combined  exertions  of  Joceline  Jolifi'e,  of  Phoebe,  and 
of  old  Joan  were  employed  in  putting  to  rights  what 
the  late  intruders  had  left  in  great  disorder. 

Sir  Henry  Lee  had,  like  all  persons  of  quality  of  that 
period,  a  love  of  order  amounting  to  precision,  and  felt, 
like  a  fine  lady  whose  dress  has  been  disordered  in  a 
crowd,  insulted  and  humiliated  by  the  rude  confusion 
into  which  his  household  goods  had  been  thrown,  and 
impatient  till  his  mansion  was  purified  from  all  marks  of 
intrusion.  In  his  anger  he  uttered  more  orders  than  the 
limited  number  of  his  domestics  were  hkely  to  find  time 
or  hands  to  execute.  'The  \illain5  have  left  such  sul- 
phureous steams  behind  them,  too,'  said  the  old  knight^ 

38  I 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'as  if  old  Davie  Leslie  and  the  whole  Scottish  army  had 
quartered  among  them.' 

'It  may  be  near  as  bad,'  said  Joceline,  'for  men  say, 
for  certain,  it  was  the  Devil  came  down  bodily  among 
them  and  made  them  troop  off.' 

'Then,'  said  the  knight,  'is  the  Prince  of  Darkness  a 
gentleman,  as  old  Will  Shakespeare  says.  He  never 
interferes  with  those  of  his  own  coat,  for  the  Lees  have 
been  here,  father  and  son,  these  five  hundred  years, 
without  disquiet;  and  no  sooner  came  these  misbegotten 
churls  than  he  plays  his  own  part  among  them.' 

'Well,  one  thing  he  and  they  have  left  us,'  said  JolifTe, 
'which  we  may  thank  them  for;  and  that  is,  such  a  well- 
filled  larder  and  buttery  as  has  been  seldom  seen  in 
Woodstock  Lodge  this  many  a  day  —  carcasses  of  mut- 
ton, large  rounds  of  beef,  barrels  of  confectioners'  ware, 
pipes  and  runlets  of  sack,  muscadine,  ale,  and  what  not. 
We  shall  have  a  royal  time  on 't  through  half  the  winter; 
and  Joan  must  get  to  salting  and  pickling  presently.' 

'  Out,  villain ! '  said  the  knight ;  '  are  we  to  feed  on  the 
fragments  of  such  scum  of  the  earth  as  these?  Cast  them 
forth  instantly.  Nay,'  checking  himself,  'that  were  a 
sin;  but  give  them  to  the  poor,  or  see  them  sent  to  the 
owners.  And,  hark  ye,  I  will  none  of  their  strong  hquors. 
I  would  rather  drink  like  a  hermit  all  my  hfe  than  seem 
to  pledge  such  scoundrels  as  these  in  their  leavings,  like 
a  miserable  drawer,  who  drains  off  the  ends  of  the  bot- 
tles after  the  guests  have  paid  their  reckoning  and  gone 
off.  And,  hark  ye,  I  will  taste  no  water  from  the  cistern 
out  of  which  these  slaves  have  been  serving  themselves; 
fetch  me  down  a  pitcher  from  Rosamond's  spring.' 

Alice  heard  this  injunction,  and  well  guessing  there 

2 


WOODSTOCK 

was  enough  for  the  other  members  of  the  family  to  do, 
she  quietly  took  a  small  pitcher,  and,  flinging  a  cloak 
around  her,  walked  out  in  person  to  procure  Sir  Henry 
the  water  which  he  desired.  Meantime,  Jocehne  said, 
with  some  hesitation,  'that  a  man  still  remained,  be- 
longing to  the  party  of  these  strangers,  who  was  direct- 
ing about  the  removal  of  some  trunks  and  mails  which 
belonged  to  the  Commissioners,  and  who  could  receive 
his  honour's  commands  about  the  provisions.' 

'Let  him  come  hither.'  The  dialogue  was  held  in  the 
hall.  'Why  do  you  hesitate  and  drumble  in  that  man- 
ner?' 

'Only,  sir,'  said  Joceline  —  'only  perhaps  your  honour 
might  not  wish  to  see  him,  being  the  same  who,  not  long 
since — '  He  paused. 

'Sent  my  rapier  a-hawking  through  the  firmament, 
thou  wouldst  say?  Why,  when  did  I  take  spleen  at  a 
man  for  standing  his  ground  against  me?  Roundhead  as 
he  is,  man,  I  like  him  the  better  of  that,  not  the  worse.  I 
hunger  and  thirst  to  have  another  turn  with  him.  I  have 
thought  on  his  passado  ever  since,  and  I  beheve,  were  it 
to  try  again,  I  know  a  feat  would  control  it.  Fetch  him 
directly.' 

Trusty  Tomkins  was  presently  ushered  in,  bearing 
himself  with  an  iron  gravity  which  neither  the  terrors  of 
the  preceding  night  nor  the  dignified  demeanour  of  the 
high-born  personage  before  whom  he  stood  were  able 
for  an  instant  to  overcome. 

'  How  now,  good  fellow? '  said  Sir  Henry ; '  I  would  fain 
see  something  more  of  thy  fence,  which  baffled  me  the 
other  evening;  but  truly,  I  think  the  Hght  was  somewhat 
too  faint  for  my  old  eyes.   Take  a  foil,  man  —  I  walk 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

here  in  the  hall,  as  Hamlet  says,  and  't  is  the  breathing- 
time  of  day  with  me  —  take  a  foil,  then,  in  thy  hand.' 

'Since  it  is  your  worship's  desire,'  said  the  steward, 
letting  fall  his  long  cloak,  and  taking  the  foil  in  his 
hand. 

'Now,'  said  the  knight,  'if  your  fitness  speaks,  mine  is 
ready.  Methinks  the  very  stepping  on  this  same  old 
pavement  hath  charmed  away  the  gout  which  threat- 
ened me.  Sa  —  sa  —  I  tread  as  firm  as  a  game-cock ! ' 

They  began  the  play  with  great  spirit;  and  whether 
the  old  knight  really  fought  more  coolly  with  the  blunt 
than  with  the  sharp  weapon,  or  whether  the  steward 
gave  him  some  grains  of  advantage  in  this  merely  sport- 
ive encoimter,  it  is  certain  Sir  Henry  had  the  better  in 
the  assault.  His  success  put  him  into  excellent  humour. 

'There,'  said  he,  'I  found  your  trick  —  nay,  you  cheat 
me  not  twice  the  same  way.  There  was  a  very  palpable 
hit.  Why,  had  I  had  but  Hght  enough  the  other  night  — 
But  it  skills  not  speaking  of  it.  Here  we  leave  off.  I 
must  not  fight,  as  we  unwise  Cavaliers  did  with  you 
Roundhead  rascals,  beating  you  so  often  that  we  taught 
you  to  beat  us  at  last.  And  good  now,  tell  me  why  you 
are  leaving  your  larder  so  full  here?  Do  you  think  I  or 
my  family  can  use  broken  victuals?  What,  have  you  no 
better  employment  for  your  rounds  of  sequestrated  beef 
than  to  leave  them  behind  you  when  you  shift  your 
quarters? ' 

'  So  please  your  honour,'  said  Tomkins, '  it  may  be  that 
you  desire  not  the  flesh  of  beeves,  of  rams,  or  of  goats. 
Nevertheless,  when  you  know  that  the  provisions  were 
provided  and  paid  for  out  of  your  own  rents  and  stock  at 
Ditchley,  sequestrated  to  the  use  of  the  state  more  than 


WOODSTOCK 

a  year  since,  it  may  be  you  will  have  less  scruple  to  use 
them  for  your  own  behoof.' 

'Rest  assured  that  I  shall,'  said  Sir  Henry;  'and  glad 
you  have  helped  me  to  a  share  of  mine  own.  Certainly  I 
was  an  ass  to  suspect  your  masters  of  subsisting,  save  at 
honest  men's  expense.' 

'And  as  for  the  rumps  of  beeves,'  continued  Tomkins, 
with  the  same  solemnity,  '  there  is  a  riunp  at  Westmin- 
ster which  will  stand  us  of  the  army  much  hacking  and 
hewing  yet  ere  it  is  discussed  to  our  mind.' 

Sir  Henry  paused,  as  if  to  consider  what  was  the 
meaning  of  this  innuendo;  for  he  was  not  a  person  of 
very  quick  apprehension.  But  having  at  length  caught 
the  meaning  of  it,  he  burst  into  an  explosion  of  louder 
laughter  than  Joceline  had  seen  him  indulge  in  for  a  good 
while. 

'  Right,  knave,'  he  said, '  I  taste  thy  jest.  It  is  the  very 
moral  of  the  puppet-show.  Faustus  raised  the  Devil,  as 
the  Parliament  raised  the  army;  and  then,  as  the  Devil 
flies  away  with  Faustus,  so  will  the  army  fly  away  with 
the  ParUament  —  or  the  rump,  as  thou  call'st  it,  or  sit- 
ting part  of  the  so-called  Parliament.  And  then,  look 
you,  friend,  the  very  Devil  of  all  hath  my  willing  con- 
sent to  fly  away  with  the  army  in  its  turn,  from  the 
highest  general  down  to  the  lowest  drum-boy.  Nay, 
never  look  fierce  for  the  matter ;  remember  there  is  day- 
light enough  now  for  a  game  at  sharps.' 

Trusty  Tomkins  appeared  to  think  it  best  to  suppress 
his  displeasure;  and  observing  that  the  wains  were 
ready  to  transport  the  Commissioners'  property  to  the 
borough,  took  a  grave  leave  of  Sir  Henry  Lee. 

Meantime  the  old  man  continued  to  pace  his  recov- 

5 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

ered  hall,  rubbing  his  hands,  and  evincing  greater  signs 
of  glee  than  he  had  shown  since  the  fatal  Thirtieth  of 
January. 

*  Here  we  are  again  in  the  old  frank,  JoliiTe  —  well 
victualled  too.  How  the  knave  solved  my  point  of  con- 
science! The  dullest  of  them  is  a  special  casuist  where 
the  question  concerns  profit.  Look  out  if  there  are  not 
some  of  our  own  ragged  regiment  lurking  about,  to 
whom  a  bellyful  would  be  a  godsend,  Joceline.  Then  his 
fence,  Joceline!  though  the  fellow  foins  well  —  very 
sufficient  well.  But  thou  saw'st  how  I  dealt  with  him 
when  I  had  fitting  light,  Joceline?' 

*Ay,  and  so  your  honour  did,'  said  Joceline.  'You 
taught  him  to  know  the  Duke  of  Norfolk  from  Saunders 
Gardner.  I'll  warrant  him  he  will  not  wish  to  come 
under  your  honour's  thumb  again.' 

'Why,  I  am  waxing  old,'  said  Sir  Henry;  'but  skill 
will  not  rust  through  age,  though  sinews  must  stiffen. 
But  my  age  is  like  a  lusty  winter,  as  old  Will  says  — 
frosty  but  kindly.  And  what  if,  old  as  we  are,  we  live  to 
see  better  days  yet !  I  promise  thee,  Joceline,  I  love  this 
jarring  betwixt  the  rogues  of  the  board  and  the  rogues  of 
the  sword.  When  thieves  quarrel,  true  men  have  a 
chance  of  coming  by  their  own.' 

Thus  triumphed  the  old  Cavalier,  in  the  treble  glory 
of  having  recovered  his  dwelling,  regained,  as  he 
thought,  his  character  as  a  man  of  fence,  and  finally 
discovered  some  prospect  of  a  change  of  times,  in  which 
he  was  not  without  hopes  that  something  might  turn  up 
for  the  Royal  interest. 

Meanwhile,  Alice,  with  a  prouder  and  a  lighter  heart 

6 


WOODSTOCK 

than  had  danced  in  her  bosom  for  several  days,  went 
forth  with  a  gaiety  to  which  she  of  late  had  been  a 
stranger,  to  contribute  her  assistance  to  the  regulation 
and  supply  of  the  household,  by  bringing  the  fresh  water 
wanted  from  Fair  Rosamond's  Well. 

Perhaps  she  remembered  that,  when  she  was  but  a 
girl,  her  cousin  Markham  used,  among  others,  to  make 
her  perform  that  duty,  as  presenting  the  character  of 
some  captive  Trojan  princess,  condemned  by  her  situa- 
tion to  draw  the  waters  from  some  Grecian  spring,  for 
the  use  of  the  proud  victor.  At  any  rate,  she  certainly 
joyed  to  see  her  father  reinstated  in  his  ancient  habita- 
tion; and  the  joy  was  not  the  less  sincere,  that  she  knew 
their  return  to  Woodstock  had  been  procured  by  means 
of  her  cousin,  and  that,  even  in  her  father's  prejudiced 
eyes,  Everard  had  been  in  some  degree  exculpated  of 
the  accusations  the  old  knight  had  brought  against  him; 
and  that,  if  a  reconciliation  had  not  yet  taken  place,  the 
preliminaries  had  been  established  on  which  such  a 
desirable  conclusion  might  easily  be  founded.  It  was 
like  the  commencement  of  a  bridge;  when  the  founda- 
tion is  securely  laid,  and  the  piers  raised  above  the 
influence  of  the  torrent,  the  throwing  of  the  arches  may 
be  accomplished  in  a  subsequent  season. 

The  doubtful  fate  of  her  only  brother  might  have 
clouded  even  this  momentary  gleam  of  sunshine;  but 
Alice  had  been  bred  up  during  the  close  and  frequent 
contests  of  civil  war,  and  had  acquired  the  habit  of 
hoping  in  behalf  of  those  dear  to  her  until  hope  was  lost. 
In  the  present  case,  all  reports  seemed  to  assure  her  of 
her  brother's  safety. 

Besides  these  causes  for  gaiety,  Alice  Lee  had  the 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

pleasing  feeling  that  she  was  restored  to  the  habitation 
and  the  haunts  of  her  childhood,  from  which  she  had  not 
departed  without  much  pain,  the  more  felt,  perhaps, 
because  suppressed,  in  order  to  avoid  irritating  her 
father's  sense  of  his  misfortune.  Finally,  she  enjoyed 
for  the  instant  the  gleam  of  self-satisfaction  by  which 
we  see  the  young  and  well-disposed  so  often  animated, 
when  they  can  be,  in  common  phrase,  helpful  to  those 
whom  they  love,  and  perform  at  the  moment  of  need 
some  of  those  little  domestic  tasks  which  age  receives 
with  so  much  pleasure  from  the  dutiful  hands  of  youth. 
So  that,  altogether,  as  she  hasted  through  the  remains 
and  vestiges  of  a  wilderness  already  mentioned,  and 
from  thence  about  a  bow-shot  into  the  park,  to  bring  a 
pitcher  of  water  from  Rosamond's  spring,  Alice  Lee,  her 
features  enlivened  and  her  complexion  a  little  raised  by 
the  exercise,  had,  for  the  moment,  regained  the  gay  and 
brilliant  vivacity  of  expression  which  had  been  the  char- 
acteristic of  her  beauty  in  her  earlier  and  happier  days. 

This  fountain  of  old  memory  had  been  once  adorned 
with  architectural  ornaments  in  the  style  of  the  sixteenth 
century,  chiefly  relating  to  ancient  mythology.  All  these 
were  now  wasted  and  overthrown,  and  existed  only  as 
moss-covered  ruins,  while  the  living  spring  continued 
to  furnish  its  daily  treasures,  unrivalled  in  purity, 
though  the  quantity  was  small,  gushing  out  amid  dis- 
jointed stones,  and  bubbUng  through  fragments  of 
ancient  sculpture. 

With  a  light  step  and  laughing  brow  the  young  Lady 
of  Lee  was  approaching  the  fountain  usually  so  solitary, 
when  she  paused  on  beholding  some  one  seated  beside  it. 
She  proceeded,  however,  with  confidence,  though  with  a 

8 


WOODSTOCK 

step  something  less  gay,  when  she  observed  that  the 
person  was  a  female:  some  menial,  perhaps,  from  the 
town,  whom  a  fanciful  mistress  occasionally  despatched 
for  the  water  of  a  spring  supposed  to  be  peculiarly  pure, 
or  some  aged  woman,  who  made  a  little  trade  by  carry- 
ing it  to  the  better  sort  of  famiHes,  and  selKng  it  for  a 
trifle.  There  was  no  cause,  therefore,  for  apprehension. 

Yet  the  terrors  of  the  times  were  so  great,  that  Alice 
did  not  see  a  stranger  even  of  her  own  sex  without  some 
apprehension.  Denaturahsed  women  had  as  usual  fol- 
lowed the  camps  of  both  armies  during  the  Civil  War, 
who,  on  the  one  side  with  open  profligacy  and  profanity, 
on  the  other  with  the  fraudful  tone  of  fanaticism  or 
hypocrisy,  exercised  nearly  in  like  degree  their  talents 
for  murder  or  plunder.  But  it  was  broad  daylight,  the 
distance  from  the  lodge  was  but  trifling,  and  though  a 
little  alarmed  at  seeing  a  stranger  where  she  expected 
deep  solitude,  the  daughter  of  the  haughty  old  knight 
had  too  much  of  the  lion  about  her  to  fear  without  some 
determined  and  decided  cause. 

Alice  walked,  therefore,  gravely  on  towards  the  fount, 
and  composed  her  looks  as  she  took  a  hasty  glance  of  the 
female  who  was  seated  there,  and  addressed  herself  to 
her  task  of  filling  her  pitcher. 

The  woman  whose  presence  had  surprised  and  some- 
what startled  Alice  Lee  was  a  person  of  the  lower  rank, 
whose  red  cloak,  russet  kirtle,  handkerchief  trimmed 
with  Coventry  blue,  and  a  coarse  steeple  hat,  could  not 
indicate  at  best  anything  higher  than  the  wife  of  a  small 
farmer,  or,  perhaps,  the  helpmate  of  a  bailiff  or  hind.  It 
was  well  if  she  proved  nothing  worse.  Her  clothes,  in- 
deed, were  of  good  materials;  but,  what  the  female  eye 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

discerns  with  half  a  glance,  they  were  indifferently  ad- 
justed and  put  on.  This  looked  as  if  they  did  not  belong 
to  the  person  by  whom  they  were  worn,  but  were  articles 
of  which  she  had  become  the  mistress  by  some  accident, 
if  not  by  some  successful  robbery.  Her  size,  too,  as  did 
not  escape  Alice,  even  in  the  short  perusal  she  afforded 
the  stranger,  was  unusual,  her  features  swarthy  and 
singularly  harsh,  and  her  manner  altogether  unpropi- 
tious.  The  young  lady  almost  wished,  as  she  stooped  to 
fill  her  pitcher,  that  she  had  rather  turned  back  and  sent 
Joceline  on  the  errand;  but  repentance  was  too  late  now, 
and  she  had  only  to  disguise  as  well  as  she  could  her 
unpleasant  feelings. 

'The  blessings  of  this  bright  day  to  one  as  bright  as 
it  is!'  said  the  stranger,  with  no  unfriendly,  though  a 
harsh,  voice. 

'I  thank  you,'  said  Alice  in  reply;  and  continued  to 
fill  her  pitcher  busily,  by  assistance  of  an  iron  bowl 
which  remained  still  chained  to  one  of  the  stones  beside 
the  fountain. 

'Perhaps,  my  pretty  maiden,  if  you  would  accept 
my  help,  your  work  would  be  sooner  done,'  said  the 
stranger. 

'  I  thank  you,'  said  Alice; '  but  had  I  needed  assistance, 
I  could  have  brought  those  with  me  who  had  rendered 
it' 

'I  do  not  doubt  of  that,  my  pretty  maiden,'  answered 
the  female ; '  there  are  too  many  lads  in  Woodstock  with 
eyes  in  their  heads.  No  doubt  you  could  have  brought 
with  you  any  one  of  them  who  looked  on  you,  if  you  had 
Usted?' 

Alice  replied  not  a  syllable,  for  she  did  not  like  the 

10 


WOODSTOCK 

freedom  used  by  the  speaker,  and  was  desirous  to  break 
ofif  the  conversation. 

'Are  you  offended,  my  pretty  mistress?'  said  the 
stranger.  '  That  was  far  from  my  purpose.  I  will  put  my 
question  otherwise.  Are  the  good  dames  of  Woodstock 
so  careless  of  their  pretty  daughters  as  to  let  the  flower 
of  them  all  wander  about  the  wild  chase  without  a 
mother,  or  a  somebody  to  prevent  the  fox  from  running 
away  with  the  lamb?  That  carelessness,  methinks, 
shows  small  kindness.' 

'Content  yourself,  good  woman,  I  am  not  far  from 
protection  and  assistance,'  said  Alice,  who  lilced  less  and 
less  the  effrontery  of  her  new  acquaintance. 

'Alas!  my  pretty  maiden,'  said  the  stranger,  patting 
with  her  large  and  hard  hand  the  head  which  Alice  had 
kept  bended  down  towards  the  water  which  she  was 
laving, '  it  would  be  difficult  to  hear  such  a  pipe  as  yours 
at  the  town  of  Woodstock,  scream  as  loud  as  you  would.' 

Alice  shook  the  woman's  hand  angrily  off,  took  up  her 
pitcher,  though  not  above  half  full,  and,  as  she  saw  the 
stranger  rise  at  the  same  time,  said,  not  without  fear 
doubtless,  but  with  a  natural  feeling  of  resentment  and 
dignity, '  I  have  no  reason  to  make  my  cries  heard  as  far 
as  Woodstock;  were  there  occasion  for  my  crying  for 
help  at  all,  it  is  nearer  at  hand.' 

She  spoke  not  without  a  warrant;  for,  at  the  moment, 
broke  through  the  bushes  and  stood  by  her  side  the 
noble  hound  Bevis,  fixing  on  the  stranger  his  eyes  that 
glanced  fire,  raising  every  hair  on  his  gallant  mane  as 
upright  as  the  bristles  of  a  wild  boar  when  hard  pressed, 
grinning  till  a  case  of  teeth,  which  would  have  matched 
those  of  any  wolf  in  Russia,  were  displayed  in  full  array, 

II 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

and,  without  either  barking  or  springing,  seeming,  by  his 
low  determined  growl,  to  await  but  the  signal  for  dash- 
ing at  the  female,  whom  he  plainly  considered  as  a 
suspicious  person. 

But  the  stranger  was  undaunted.  'My  pretty  maid- 
en,' she  said,  'you  have  indeed  a  formidable  guardian 
there,  where  cockneys  or  bumpkins  are  concerned;  but 
we  who  have  been  at  the  wars  know  spells  for  taming 
such  furious  dragons;  and  therefore  let  not  your  four- 
footed  protector  go  loose  on  me,  for  he  is  a  noble  animal, 
and  nothing  but  self-defence  would  induce  me  to  do  him 
injury.'  So  saying,  she  drew  a  pistol  from  her  bosom  and 
cocked  it,  pointing  it  towards  the  dog,  as  if  apprehensive 
that  he  would  spring  upon  her. 

'  Hold,  woman  —  hold ! '  said  Alice  Lee ;  '  the  dog  will 
not  do  you  harm.  Down,  Bevis  —  couch  down.  And  ere 
you  attempt  to  hurt  him,  know  he  is  the  favourite 
hound  of  Sir  Henry  Lee  of  Ditchley,  the  keeper  of 
Woodstock  Park,  who  would  severely  revenge  any  injury 
offered  to  him.' 

'And  you,  pretty  one,  are  the  old  knight's  house- 
keeper, doubtless?  I  have  often  heard  the  Lees  have 
good  taste.' 

'I  am  his  daughter,  good  woman.' 

'  His  daughter !  I  was  blind ;  but  yet  it  is  true,  nothing 
less  perfect  could  answer  the  description  which  all  the 
world  has  given  of  Mistress  Alice  Lee.  I  trust  that  my 
folly  has  given  my  young  mistress  no  offence,  and  that 
she  will  allow  me,  in  token  of  reconciliation,  to  fill  her 
pitcher  and  carry  it  as  far  as  she  will  permit.' 

'As  you  will,  good  mother;  but  I  am  about  to  return 
instantly  to  the  lodge,  to  which,  in  these  times,  I  cannot 

12 


WOODSTOCK 

admit  strangers.  You  can  follow  me  no  farther  than  the 
verge  of  the  wilderness,  and  I  am  already  too  long  from 
home:  I  will  send  some  one  to  meet  and  relieve  you 
of  the  pitcher.'  So  saying,  she  turned  her  back,  with  a 
feeling  of  terror  which  she  could  hardly  account  for,  and 
began  to  walk  quickly  towards  the  lodge,  thinking  thus 
to  get  rid  of  her  troublesome  acquaintance. 

But  she  reckoned  without  her  host;  for  in  a  moment 
her  new  companion  was  by  her  side,  not  running,  indeed, 
but  walking  with  prodigious,  long,  unwomanly  strides, 
which  soon  brought  her  up  with  the  hurried  and  timid 
steps  of  the  frightened  maiden.  But  her  manner  was 
more  respectful  than  formerly,  though  her  voice  sounded 
remarkably  harsh  and  disagreeable,  and  her  whole  ap- 
pearance suggested  an  undefined  yet  irresistible  feeling 
of  apprehension. 

*  Pardon  a  stranger,  lovely  Mistress  Alice,'  said  her 
persecutor,  '  that  was  not  capable  of  distinguishing  be- 
tween a  lady  of  your  high  quaUty  and  a  peasant  wench, 
and  who  spoke  to  you  with  a  degree  of  freedom  ill  befit- 
ting your  rank,  certainly,  and  condition,  and  which,  I 
fear,  has  given  you  offence.' 

'No  offence  whatever,'  replied  Alice;  'but,  good  wo- 
man, I  am  near  home,  and  can  excuse  your  further  com- 
pany. You  are  unknown  to  me.' 

'But  it  follows  not,'  said  the  stranger,  'that  your  for- 
tunes may  not  be  known  to  me,  fair  Mistress  Alice.  Look 
on  my  swarthy  brow;  England  breeds  none  such,  and  in 
the  lands  from  which  I  come  the  sun,  which  blackens 
our  complexion,  pours,  to  make  amends,  rays  of  know- 
ledge into  our  brains  which  are  denied  to  those  of  your 
lukewarm  climate.  Let  me  look  upon  your  pretty  hand 

13 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

(attempting  to  possess  herself  of  it),  and  I  promise  you 
you  shall  hear  what  will  please  you.' 

'I  hear  what  does  not  please  me/  said  Alice,  with  dig- 
nity; 'you  must  carry  your  tricks  of  fortune- telling  and 
palmistry  to  the  women  of  the  village.  We  of  the  gentry 
hold  them  to  be  either  imposture  or  unlawful  knowledge.' 

*  Yet  you  would  fain  hear  of  a  certain  colonel,  I  war- 
rant you,  whom  certain  unhappy  circumstances  have 
separated  from  his  family;  you  would  give  better  than 
silver  if  I  could  assure  you  that  you  would  see  him  in  a 
day  or  two  —  ay,  perhaps  sooner.' 

'I  know  nothing  of  what  you  speak,  good  woman;  if 
you  want  alms,  there  is  a  piece  of  silver,  it  is  all  I  have  in 
my  purse.' 

*It  were  pity  that  I  should  take  it,'  said  the  female; 
'and  yet  give  it  me,  for  the  princess  in  the  fairy  tale 
must  ever  deserve,  by  her  generosity,  the  bounty  of  the 
benevolent  fairy,  before  she  is  rewarded  by  her  protec- 
tion.' 

'Take  it  —  take  it;  give  me  my  pitcher,'  said  Alice, 
*and  begone;  yonder  comes  one  of  my  father's  servants. 
What,  ho !  Joceline  —  Joceline ! ' 

The  old  fortune-teller  hastily  dropped  something  into 
the  pitcher  as  she  restored  it  to  Ahce  Lee,  and,  plying  her 
long  limbs,  disappeared  speedily  under  cover  of  the 
wood. 

Bevis  turned,  and  backed,  and  showed  some  inclina- 
tion to  harass  the  retreat  of  this  suspicious  person,  yet,  as 
if  uncertain,  ran  towards  Johffe,  and  fawned  on  him, 
as  to  demand  his  advice  and  encouragement.  Joceline 
pacified  the  animal,  and  coming  up  to  his  young  lady, 
asked  her,  with  surprise,  what  was  the  matter,  and 

14 


WOODSTOCK 

whether  she  had  been  frightened?  Alice  made  light  of 
her  alarm,  for  which,  indeed,  she  could  not  have  assigned 
any  very  competent  reason,  for  the  manners  of  the 
woman,  though  bold  and  intrusive,  were  not  menacing. 
She  only  said  she  had  met  a  fortune-teller  by  Rosa- 
mond's Well,  and  had  had  some  difficulty  in  shaking 
her  oflf. 

*Ah,  the  gipsy  thief,'  said  Joceline,  'how  well  she 
scented  there  was  food  in  the  pantry!  They  have  noses 
like  ravens,  these  strollers.  Look  you.  Mistress  Alice, 
you  shall  not  see  a  raven  or  a  carrion-crow  in  all  the  blue 
sky  for  a  mile  round  you;  but  let  a  sheep  drop  suddenly 
down  on  the  greensward,  and  before  the  poor  creature 's 
dead  you  shall  see  a  dozen  of  such  guests  croaking,  as  if 
inviting  each  other  to  the  banquet.  Just  so  it  is  with  these 
sturdy  beggars.  You  will  see  few  enough  of  them  when 
there  's  nothing  to  give,  but  when  hough 's  in  the  pot, 
they  will  have  a  share  on 't.' 

'You  are  so  proud  of  your  fresh  supply  of  provender,' 
said  Alice,  *  that  you  suspect  all  of  a  design  on 't.  I  do 
not  think  this  woman  will  venture  near  your  kitchen, 
Joceline.' 

'It  will  be  best  for  her  health,'  said  JoceHne,  'lest  I 
give  her  a  ducking  for  digestion.  But  give  me  the  pitcher. 
Mistress  AUce,  meeter  I  bear  it  than  you.  How  now! 
what  jingles  at  the  bottom?  Have  you  lifted  the  pebbles 
as  well  as  the  water? ' 

'I  think  the  woman  dropped  something  into  the 
pitcher,'  said  Alice. 

'Nay,  we  must  look  to  that,  for  it  is  hke  to  be  a  charm, 
and  we  have  enough  of  the  Devil's  ware  about  Wood- 
stock already;  we  will  not  spare  for  the  water  —  I  can 

IS 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

run  back  and  fill  the  pitcher.'  He  poured  out  the  water 
upon  the  grass,  and  at  the  bottom  of  the  pitcher  was 
found  a  gold  ring,  in  which  was  set  a  ruby,  apparently  of 
some  value. 

*  Nay,  if  this  be  not  enchantment,  I  know  not  what  is,' 
said  Joceline.  'Truly,  Mistress  Alice,  I  think  you  had 
better  throw  away  this  gimcrack.  Such  gifts  from  such 
hands  are  a  kind  of  press-money  which  the  Devil  uses  for 
enlisting  his  regiment  of  witches;  and  if  they  take  but 
so  much  as  a  bean  from  him,  they  become  his  bond  slaves 
for  life.  Ay,  you  look  at  the  gewgaw,  but  to-morrow 
you  will  find  a  lead  ring  and  a  common  pebble  in  its 
stead.' 

'Nay,  Jocehne,  I  think  it  will  be  better  to  find  out 
that  dark-complexioned  woman,  and  return  to  her  what 
seems  of  some  value.  So,  cause  inquiry  to  be  made,  and 
be  sure  you  return  her  ring.  It  seems  too  valuable  to  be 
destroyed,' 

*Umph!  that  is  always  the  way  with  women,'  mur- 
mured Jocehne.  'You  will  never  get  the  best  of  them, 
but  she  is  willing  to  save  a  bit  of  finery.  Well,  Mistress 
Alice,  I  trust  that  you  are  too  young  and  too  pretty  to 
be  enlisted  in  a  regiment  of  witches.' 

*I  shall  not  be  afraid  of  it  till  you  turn  conjurer,'  said 
Alice;  'so  hasten  to  the  well,  where  you  are  hke  still 
to  find  the  woman,  and  let  her  know  that  Alice  Lee 
desires  none  of  her  gifts,  any  more  than  she  did  of  her 
society.' 

So  saying,  the  young  lady  pursued  her  way  to  the 
lodge,  while  Jocehne  went  down  to  Rosamond's  Well 
to  execute  her  commission.  But  the  fortune-teller,  or 
whoever  she  might  be,  was  nowhere  to  be  found;  neither, 

i6 


WOODSTOCK 

finding  that  to  be  the  case,  did  Joceline  give  himself 
much  trouble  in  tracking  her  farther. 

'If  this  ring,  which  I  dare  say  the  jade  stole  some- 
where,' said  the  under-keeper  to  himself,  *be  worth  a  few 
nobles,  it  is  better  in  honest  hands  than  in  those  of  vaga- 
bonds. My  master  has  a  right  to  all  waifs  and  strays, 
and  certainly  such  a  ring,  in  possession  of  a  gipsy,  must 
be  a  waif.  So  I  shall  confiscate  it  without  scruple,  and 
apply  the  produce  to  the  support  of  Sir  Henry's  house- 
hold, which  is  Hke  to  be  poor  enough.  Thank  Heaven, 
my  military  experience  has  taught  me  how  to  carry 
hooks  at  my  finger-ends  —  that  is  trooper's  law.  Yet, 
hang  it,  after  all,  I  had  best  take  it  to  Mark  Everard 
and  ask  his  advice.  I  hold  him  now  to  be  your  learned 
counsellor  in  law  where  Mistress  Alice's  affairs  are  con- 
cerned, and  my  learned  doctor,  who  shall  be  nameless, 
for  such  as  concern  church  and  state  and  Sir  Henry 
Lee.  And  I  '11  give  them  leave  to  give  mine  umbles  to  the 
kites  and  ravens  if  they  find  me  conferring  my  confidence 
where  it  is  not  safe.' 


CHAPTER  XIX 

Being  skilless  in  these  parts,  which,  to  a  stranger, 
Unguided  and  unfriended,  often  prove 
Rough  and  unhospitable. 

Twelfth  Night. 

There  was  a  little  attempt  at  preparation,  now  that  the 
dinner-hour  was  arrived,  which  showed  that,  in  the 
opinion  of  his  few  but  faithful  domestics,  the  good 
knight  had  returned  in  triumph  to  his  home. 

The  great  tankard,  exhibiting  in  bas-reHef  the  figure 
of  Michael  subduing  the  arch  enemy,  was  placed  on  the 
table,  and  Joceline  and  Phoebe  dutifully  attended  —  the 
one  behind  the  chair  of  Sir  Henry,  the  other  to  wait  upon 
her  young  mistress,  and  both  to  make  out,  by  formal 
and  regular  observance,  the  want  of  a  more  numerous 
train. 

'A  health  to  King  Charles! '  said  the  old  knight,  hand- 
ing the  massive  tankard  to  his  daughter;  'drink  it,  my 
love,  though  it  be  rebel  ale  which  they  have  left  us.  I 
will  pledge  thee;  for  the  toast  will  excuse  the  liquor,  had 
Noll  himself  brewed  it.' 

The  young  lady  touched  the  goblet  with  her  lip,  and 
returned  it  to  her  father,  who  took  a  copious  draught. 

*I  will  not  say  blessings  on  their  hearts,'  said  he; 
'though  I  must  own  they  drank  good  ale.' 

*No  wonder,  sir;  they  come  Hghtly  by  the  malt,  and 
need  not  spare  it,'  said  Joceline. 

'Say'st  thou?'  said  the  knight;  'thou  shalt  finish  the 
tankard  thyself  for  that  very  jest's  sake.'   Nor  was  his 

i8 


WOODSTOCK 

follower  slow  in  doing  reason  to  the  Royal  pledge.  He 
bowed,  and  replaced  the  tankard,  saying,  after  a  tri- 
umphant glance  at  the  sculpture,  *I  had  a  gibe  with 
that  same  redcoat  about  the  St.  Michael  just  now.' 

'Redcoat  —  ha!  what  redcoat?'  said  the  hasty  old 
man.  'Do  any  of  these  knaves  still  lurk  about  Wood- 
stock? Quoit  him  downstairs  instantly,  Joceline.  Know 
we  not  Galloway  nags?' 

'So  please  you,  he  is  in  some  charge  here,  and  will 
speedily  be  gone.  It  is  he  —  he  who  had  a  rencontre 
with  your  honour  in  the  wood.' 

'Ay,  but  I  paid  him  off  for  it  in  the  hall,  as  you  your- 
self saw.  I  was  never  in  better  fence  in  my  life,  Joceline. 
That  same  steward  fellow  is  not  so  utterly  black-hearted 
a  rogue  as  the  most  of  them,  Joceline.  He  fences  well  — 
excellent  well.  I  will  have  thee  try  a  bout  in  the  hall 
with  him  to-morrow,  though  I  think  he  will  be  too  hard 
for  thee.   I  know  thy  strength  to  an  inch.' 

He  might  say  this  with  some  truth;  for  it  was  Joce- 
line's  fashion,  when  called  on,  as  sometimes  happened, 
to  fence  with  his  patron,  just  to  put  forth  as  much  of  his 
strength  and  skill  as  obliged  the  knight  to  contend  hard 
for  the  victory,  which,  in  the  long-run,  he  always  con- 
trived to  yield  up  to  him,  Hke  a  discreet  serving-man. 

'And  what  said  this  Roundheaded  steward  of  our 
great  St.  Michael's  standing-cup?' 

'Marry,  he  scoffed  at  our  good  saint,  and  said  he  was 
little  better  than  one  of  the  golden  calves  of  Bethel.  But 
I  told  him  he  should  not  talk  so,  until  one  of  their  own 
Roundheaded  saints  had  given  the  Devil  as  complete  a 
cross-buttock  as  St.  Michael  had  given  him,  as  't  is  carved 
upon  the  cup  there.  I  trow  that  made  him  silent  enough. 

19 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

And  then  he  would  know  whether  your  honour  and 
Mistress  Alice,  not  to  mention  old  Joan  and  myself, 
since  it  is  your  honour's  pleasure  I  should  take  my  bed 
here,  were  not  afraid  to  sleep  in  a  house  that  had  been 
so  much  disturbed.  But  I  told  him  we  feared  no  fiends 
or  goblins,  having  the  prayers  of  the  church  read  every 
evening.' 

'Joceline,'  said  Alice,  interrupting  him,  'wert  thou 
mad?  You  know  at  what  risk  to  ourselves  and  the  good 
doctor  the  performance  of  that  duty  takes  place.' 

*0h.  Mistress  Alice,'  said  Joceline,  a  little  abashed, 
*you  may  be  sure  I  spoke  not  a  word  of  the  Doctor.  No 
—  no,  I  did  not  let  him  into  the  secret  that  we  had  such 
a  reverend  chaplain.  I  think  I  know  the  length  of  this 
man's  foot.  We  have  had  a  jollification  or  so  together. 
He  is  hand  and  glove  with  me,  for  as  great  a  fanatic  as 
he  is.' 

'Trust  him  not  too  far,'  said  the  knight.  'Nay,  I  fear 
thou  hast  been  imprudent  already,  and  that  it  will  be 
unsafe  for  the  good  man  to  come  here  after  nightfall,  as 
is  proposed.  These  Independents  have  noses  like  blood- 
hounds, and  can  smell  out  a  loyalist  under  any  dis- 
guise.' 

*If  your  honour  thinks  so,'  said  Joceline,  'I'll  watch 
for  the  Doctor  with  good-will,  and  bring  him  into  the 
lodge  by  the  old  condemned  postern,  and  so  up  to  this 
apartment;  and  sure  this  man  Tomkins  would  never 
presume  to  come  hither;  and  the  Doctor  may  have  a 
bed  in  Woodstock  Lodge,  and  he  never  the  wiser;  or,  if 
your  honour  does  not  think  that  safe,  I  can  cut  his 
throat  for  you,  and  I  would  not  mind  it  a  pin.' 

'  God  forbid ! '  said  the  knight.  '  He  is  under  our  roof, 
20 


WOODSTOCK 

and  a  guest,  though  not  an  invited  one.  Go,  Joceline; 
it  shall  be  thy  penance,  for  having  given  thy  tongue  too 
much  license,  to  watch  for  the  good  doctor,  and  to  take 
care  of  his  safety  while  he  continues  with  us.  An  Oc- 
tober night  or  two  in  the  forest  would  finish  the  good 
man.' 

*He  is  more  Hke  to  finish  our  October  than  our  Oc- 
tober is  to  finish  him/  said  the  keeper;  and  withdrew 
under  the  encouraging  smile  of  his  patron. 

He  whistled  Bevis  along  with  him  to  share  in  his 
watch;  and  having  received  exact  information  where 
the  clergyman  was  most  likely  to  be  found,  assured  his 
master  that  he  would  give  the  most  pointed  attention 
to  his  safety. 

When  the  attendants  had  withdrawn,  having  pre- 
viously removed  the  remains  of  the  meal,  the  old  knight, 
leaning  back  in  his  chair,  encouraged  pleasanter  visions 
than  had  of  late  passed  through  his  imagination,  until 
by  degrees  he  was  surprised  by  actual  slumber;  while  his 
daughter,  not  venturing  to  move  but  on  tiptoe,  took 
some  needlework,  and,  bringing  it  close  by  the  old 
man's  side,  employed  her  fingers  on  this  task,  bending 
her  eyes  from  time  to  time  on  her  parent  with  the  affec- 
tionate zeal,  if  not  the  effective  power,  of  a  guardian 
angel.  At  length,  as  the  hght  faded  away  and  night 
came  on,  she  was  about  to  order  candles  to  be  brought. 
But,  remembering  how  indifferent  a  couch  Joceline's 
cottage  had  afforded,  she  could  not  think  of  interrupt- 
ing the  first  sound  and  refreshing  sleep  which  her  father 
had  enjoyed,  in  all  probability,  for  the  last  two  nights 
and  days. 

She  herself  had  no  other  amusement,  as  she  sat  facing 

21 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

one  of  the  great  oriel  windows,  the  same  by  which 
Wildrake  had  on  a  former  occasion  looked  in  upon 
Tomkins  and  Joceline  while  at  their  compotations, 
than  watching  the  clouds,  which  a  lazy  wind  sometimes 
chased  from  the  broad  disk  of  the  harvest  moon,  some- 
times permitted  to  accumulate  and  exclude  her  bright- 
ness. There  is,  I  know  not  why,  something  pecuHarly 
pleasing  to  the  imagination  in  contemplating  the  Queen 
of  Night,  when  she  is  'wading,'  as  the  expression  is, 
among  the  vapours  which  she  has  not  power  to  dispel, 
and  which  on  their  side  are  unable  entirely  to  quench 
her  lustre.  It  is  the  striking  image  of  patient  virtue 
calmly  pursuing  her  path  through  good  report  and  bad 
report,  having  that  excellence  in  herself  which  ought  to 
command  all  admiration,  but  bedimmed  in  the  eyes  of 
the  world  by  suffering,  by  misfortune,  by  calumny. 

As  some  such  reflections,  perhaps,  were  passing 
through  AHce's  imagination,  she  became  sensible,  to  her 
surprise  and  alarm,  that  some  one  had  clambered  up 
upon  the  window,  and  was  looking  into  the  room.  The 
idea  of  supernatural  fear  did  not  in  the  slightest  degree 
agitate  AHce.  She  was  too  much  accustomed  to  the 
place  and  situation;  for  folk  do  not  see  spectres  in  the 
scenes  with  which  they  have  been  familiar  from  infancy. 
But  danger  from  marauders  in  a  disturbed  country  was 
a  more  formidable  subject  of  apprehension,  and  the 
thought  armed  Alice,  who  was  naturally  high-spirited, 
with  such  desperate  courage,  that  she  snatched  a  pistol 
from  the  wall,  on  which  some  firearms  hung,  and  while 
she  screamed  to  her  father  to  awake,  had  the  presence 
of  mind  to  present  it  at  the  intruder.  She  did  so  the 
more  readily,  because  she  imagined  she  recognised  in 

22 


WOODSTOCK 

the  visage,  which  she  partially  saw,  the  features  of  the 
woman  whom  she  had  met  with  at  Rosamond's  Well, 
and  which  had  appeared  to  her  peculiarly  harsh  and 
suspicious.  Her  father  at  the  same  time  seized  his  sword 
and  came  forward,  while  the  person  at  the  window, 
alarmed  at  these  demonstrations,  and  endeavouring  to 
descend,  missed  footing,  as  had  Cavaliero  Wildrake  be- 
fore, and  went  down  to  the  earth  with  no  small  noise. 
Nor  was  the  reception  of  the  bosom  of  our  common 
mother  either  soft  or  safe;  for,  by  a  most  terrific  bark 
and  growl,  they  heard  that  Bevis  had  come  up  and 
seized  on  the  party,  ere  he  or  she  could  gain  their  feet. 

'Hold  fast,  but  worry  not,'  said  the  old  knight.  'Alice 
thou  art  the  queen  of  wenches!  Stand  fast  here  till  I  run 
down  and  secure  the  rascal.' 

'For  God's  sake,  no,  my  dearest  father!'  Alice  ex- 
claimed. 'Joceline  will  be  up  immediately.  Hark!  I 
hear  him.' 

There  was  indeed  a  bustle  below,  and  more  than  one 
light  danced  to  and  fro  in  confusion,  while  those  who 
bore  them  called  to  each  other,  yet  suppressing  their 
voices  as  they  spoke,  as  men  who  would  only  be  heard 
by  those  they  addressed.  The  individual  who  had  fallen 
under  the  power  of  Bevis  was  most  impatient  in  his 
situation,  and  called  with  least  precaution  —  'Here, 
Lee  —  Forester  —  take  the  dog  off,  else  I  must  shoot 
him!' 

'If  thou  dost,'  said  Sir  Henry  from  the  window,  'I 
blow  thy  brains  out  on  the  spot.  Thieves,  Jocehne  — 
thieves!  come  up  and  secure  this  ruffian.  Bevis,  hold 
on!' 

'Back,  Bevis  —  down,  sir,'  cried  Joceline.  ' I  am  com- 

23' 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

ing  —  I  am  coming,  Sir  Henry.  St.  Michael,  I  shall  go 
distracted ! ' 

A  terrible  thought  suddenly  occurred  to  Alice:  could 
Joceline  have  become  unfaithful,  that  he  was  calling 
Bevis  off  the  villain,  instead  of  encouraging  the  trusty 
dog  to  secure  him?  Her  father,  meantime,  moving  per- 
haps by  some  suspicion  of  the  same  kind,  hastily  stepped 
aside  out  of  the  moonHght,  and  pulled  Alice  close  to  him, 
so  as  to  be  invisible  from  without,  yet  so  placed  as  to 
hear  what  should  pass.  The  scufiQe  between  Bevis  and 
his  prisoner  seemed  to  be  ended  by  Joceline's  interfer- 
ence, and  there  was  close  whispering  for  an  instant,  as 
of  people  in  consultation. 

'All  is  quiet  now,'  said  one  voice;  'I  will  up  and  pre- 
pare the  way  for  you.'  And  immediately  a  form  pre- 
sented itself  on  the  outside  of  the  window,  pushed  open 
the  lattice,  and  sprung  into  the  parlour.  But  almost  ere 
his  step  was  upon  the  floor,  certainly  before  he  had  ob- 
tained any  secure  footing,  the  old  knight,  who  stood 
ready  with  his  rapier  drawn,  made  a  desperate  pass, 
which  bore  the  intruder  to  the  ground.  Joceline,  who 
clambered  up  next  with  a  dark  lantern  in  his  hand,  ut- 
tered a  dreadful  explanation  when  he  saw  what  had  hap- 
pened, cr3dng  out,  'Lord  in  Heaven,  he  has  slain  his  own 
son!' 

'No  —  no  —  I  tell  you  no,'  said  the  fallen  young  man, 
who  was  indeed  young  Albert  Lee,  the  only  son  of  the 
old  knight.  'I  am  not  hurt.  No  noise,  on  your  Uves; 
get  lights  instantly.'  At  the  same  time,  he  started  from 
the  floor  as  quickly  as  he  could,  under  the  embarrass- 
ment of  a  cloak  and  doublet  skewered  as  it  were  to- 
gether by  the  rapier  of  the  old  knight,  whose  pass,  most 

24 


WOODSTOCK 

fortunately,  had  been  diverted  from  the  body  of  Albert 
by  the  interruption  of  his  cloak,  the  blade  passing  right 
across  his  back,  piercing  the  clothes,  while  the  hilt,  com- 
ing against  his  side  with  the  whole  force  of  the  lounge, 
had  borne  him  to  the  ground. 

Joceline  all  the  while  enjoined  silence  to  every  one, 
imder  the  strictest  conjurations.  *  Silence,  as  you  would 
long  live  on  earth  —  silence,  as  you  would  have  a  place 
in  Heaven  —  be  but  silent  for  a  few  minutes ;  all  our 
lives  depend  on  it.' 

Meantime  he  procured  lights  with  inexpressible 
despatch,  and  they  then  beheld  that  Sir  Henry,  on 
hearing  the  fatal  words,  had  sunk  back  on  one  of  the 
large  chairs,  without  either  motion,  colour,  or  sign  of 
Hfe. 

*0h,  brother,  how  could  you  come  in  this  manner?' 
said  Alice. 

'Ask  no  questions.  Good  God!  for  what  am  I  re- 
served?' He  gazed  on  his  father  as  he  spoke,  who,  with 
clay-cold  features  rigidly  fixed,  and  his  arms  extended 
in  the  most  absolute  helplessness,  looked  rather  the 
image  of  death  upon  a  monument  than  a  being  in  whom 
existence  was  only  suspended.  'Was  my  life  spared,' 
said  Albert,  raising  his  hands  with  a  wild  gesture  to 
Heaven,  'only  to  witness  such  a  sight  as  this?' 

'  We  suffer  what  Heaven  permits,  young  man  —  we 
endure  our  lives  while  Heaven  continues  them.  Let 
me  approach.'  The  same  clergyman  who  had  read  the 
prayers  at  Joceline's  hut  now  came  forward.  '  Get  water,' 
he  said,  'instantly.'  And  the  helpful  hand  and  light  foot 
of  Alice,  with  the  ready-witted  tenderness  which  never 
stagnates  in  vain  lamentations  while  there  is  any  room 

25 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

for  hope,  provided  with  incredible  celerity  all  that  the 
clergyman  called  for. 

'It  is  but  a  swoon,'  he  said,  on  feeling  Sir  Henry's 
palm  —  '  a  swoon  produced  from  the  instant  and  unex- 
pected shock.  Rouse  thee  up,  Albert;  I  promise  thee  it 
will  be  nothing  save  a  syncope.  A  cup,  my  dearest  Ahce, 
and  a  ribbon,  or  a  bandage  —  I  must  take  some  blood 
—  some  aromatics,  too,  if  they  can  be  had,  my  good 
Alice.' 

But  while  Alice  procured  the  cup  and  bandage, 
stripped  her  father's  sleeve,  and  seemed  by  intuition 
even  to  anticipate  every  direction  of  the  reverend 
doctor,  her  brother,  hearing  no  word  and  seeing  no 
sign  of  comfort,  stood  with  both  hands  clasped  and  ele- 
vated into  the  air,  a  monument  of  speechless  despair. 
Every  feature  in  his  face  seemed  to  express  the  thought, 
*  Here  lies  my  father's  corpse,  and  it  is  I  whose  rashness 
has  slain  him ! ' 

But  when  a  few  drops  of  blood  began  to  follow  the 
lancet;  at  first  falling  singly,  and  then  trickling  in  a  freer 
stream;  when,  in  consequence  of  the  appHcation  of  cold 
water  to  the  temples,  and  aromatics  to  the  nostrils,  the 
old  man  sighed  feebly,  and  made  an  effort  to  move  his 
limbs,  Albert  Lee  changed  his  posture  at  once  to  throw 
himself  at  the  feet  of  the  clergyman  and  kiss,  if  he  would 
have  permitted  him,  his  shoes  and  the  hem  of  his  rai- 
ment. 

'Rise,  foohsh  youth,'  said  the  good  man,  with  a  re- 
proving tone;  'must  it  be  always  thus  with  you?  Kneel 
to  Heaven,  not  to  the  feeblest  of  its  agents.  You  have 
been  saved  once  again  from  great  danger;  would  you  de- 
serve Heaven's  bounty,  remember  you  have  been  pre- 

26 


WOODSTOCK 

served  for  other  purposes  than  you  now  think  on.  Be- 
gone you  and  Joceline,  you  have  a  duty  to  discharge; 
and  be  assured  it  will  go  better  with  your  father's  re- 
covery that  he  see  you  not  for  a  few  minutes.  Down  — 
down  to  the  wilderness,  and  bring  in  your  attendant.' 

'Thanks  —  thanks  —  a  thousand  thanks,'  answered 
Albert  Lee;  and,  springing  through  the  lattice,  he  dis- 
appeared as  unexpectedly  as  he  had  entered.  At  the 
same  time  Joceline  followed  him,  and  by  the  same  road. 

Alice,  whose  fears  for  her  father  were  now  something 
abated,  upon  this  new  movement  among  the  persons 
of  the  scene,  could  not  resist  appeahng  to  her  venerable 
assistant.  'Good  Doctor,  answer  me  but  one  question; 
was  my  brother  Albert  here  just  now,  or  have  I  dreamed 
all  that  has  happened  for  these  ten  minutes  past?  Me- 
thinks,  but  for  your  presence,  I  could  suppose  the 
whole  had  passed  in  my  sleep  —  that  horrible  thrust, 
that  death-like,  corpse-Hke  old  man,  that  soldier  in  mute 
despair  —  I  must  indeed  have  dreamed.' 

'If  you  have  dreamed,  my  sweet  Alice,'  said  the  Doc- 
tor, 'I  wish  every  sick-nurse  had  your  property,  since 
you  have  been  attending  to  our  patient  better  during 
your  sleep  than  most  of  these  old  dormice  can  do  when 
they  are  most  awake.  But  your  dream  came  through  the 
gate  of  horn,  my  pretty  darling,  which  you  must  remind 
me  to  explain  to  you  at  leisure.  Albert  has  really  been 
here,  and  will  be  here  again.' 

'  Albert ! '  repeated  Sir  Henry,  '  who  names  my  son?  ■* 

'It  is  I,  my  kind  patron,'  said  the  Doctor;  'permit  me 
to  bind  up  your  arm.' 

'My  wound!  with  all  my  heart,  Doctor,'  said  Sir 
Henry,  raising  himself,  and  gathering  his  recollection  by 

27 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

degrees.  'I  knew  of  old  thou  wert  body-curer  as  well  as 
soul-curer,  and  served  my  regiment  for  surgeon  as  well 
as  chaplain.  But  where  is  the  rascal  I  killed?  I  never 
made  a  fairer  stramaqon  in  my  life.  The  shell  of  my 
rapier  struck  against  his  ribs.  So  dead  he  must  be,  or 
my  right  hand  has  forgot  its  cunning.' 

'Nobody  was  slain,'  said  the  Doctor;  'we  must  thank 
God  for  that,  since  there  were  none  but  friends  to  slay. 
Here  is  a  good  cloak  and  doublet,  though,  wounded  in  a 
fashion  which  will  require  some  skill  in  tailor-craft  to 
cure.  But  I  was  your  last  antagonist,  and  took  a  little 
blood  from  you,  merely  to  prepare  you  for  the  pleasure 
and  surprise  of  seeing  your  son,  who,  though  hunted 
pretty  close,  as  you  may  believe,  hath  made  his  way 
from  Worcester  hither,  where,  with  Joceline's  assistance, 
we  will  care  well  enough  for  his  safety.  It  was  even  for 
this  reason  that  I  pressed  you  to  accept  of  your  nephew's 
proposal  to  return  to  the  old  lodge,  where  a  hundred 
men  might  be  concealed,  though  a  thousand  were  mak- 
ing search  to  discover  them.  Never  such  a  place  for 
hide-and-seek,  as  I  shall  make  good  when  I  can  find 
means  to  publish  my  "Wonders  of  Woodstock.'" 

'But,  my  son  —  my  dear  son,'  said  the  knight,  'shall 
I  not  then  instantly  see  him?  and  wherefore  did  you  not 
forewarn  me  of  this  joyful  event? ' 

'Because  I  was  uncertain  of  his  motions,'  said  the 
Doctor,  'and  rather  thought  he  was  bound  for  the  sea- 
side, and  that  it  would  be  best  to  tell  you  of  his  fate 
when  he  was  safe  on  board  and  in  full  sail  for  France.  We 
had  appointed  to  let  you  know  all  when  I  came  hither 
to-night  to  join  you.  But  there  is  a  red-coat  in  the  house 
whom  we  care  not  to  trust  further  than  we  could  not 

28 


WOODSTOCK 

help.  We  dared  not,  therefore,  venture  in  by  the  hall; 
and  so,  prowling  round  the  building,  Albert  informed  us 
that  an  old  prank  of  his,  when  a  boy,  consisted  of  enter- 
ing by  this  window.  A  lad  who  was  with  us  would  needs 
make  the  experiment,  as  there  seemed  to  be  no  light  in 
the  chamber,  and  the  moonlight  without  made  us  Hable 
to  be  detected.  His  foot  slipped,  and  our  friend  Bevis 
came  upon  us.' 

*In  good  truth,  you  acted  simply,'  said  Sir  Henry,  *to 
attack  a  garrison  without  a  summons.  But  all  this  is 
nothing  to  my  son  Albert.  Where  is  he?  Let  me  see 
him.' 

'But,  Sir  Henry,  wait,'  said  the  Doctor,  'till  your  re- 
stored strength  — ' 

*A  plague  of  my  restored  strength,  man!'  answered 
the  knight,  as  his  old  spirit  began  to  awaken  within  him. 
'Dost  not  remember  that  I  lay  on  Edgehill  Field  all 
night,  bleeding  like  a  bullock  from  five  several  wounds, 
and  wore  my  armour  within  six  weeks,  and  you  talk  to 
me  of  the  few  drops  of  blood  that  follow  such  a  scratch 
as  a  cat's  claw  might  have  made? ' 

'Nay,  if  you  feel  so  courageous,'  said  the  Doctor,  'I 
will  fetch  your  son;  he  is  not  far  distant.'  So  saying,  he 
left  the  apartment,  making  a  sign  to  Alice  to  remain,  in 
case  any  symptoms  of  her  father's  weakness  should 
return. 

It  was  fortunate,  perhaps,  that  Sir  Henry  never 
seemed  to  recollect  the  precise  nature  of  the  alarm  which 
had  at  once,  and  effectually  as  the  shock  of  the  thunder- 
bolt, for  the  moment  suspended  his  faculties.  Some- 
thing he  said  more  than  once  of  being  certain  he  had 
done  mischief  with  that  stramaqon,  as  he  called  it;  but  his 

29 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

mind  did  not  recur  to  that  danger  as  having  been  in- 
curred by  his  son.  Alice,  glad  to  see  that  her  father  ap- 
peared to  have  forgotten  a  circumstance  so  fearful,  as 
men  often  forget  the  blow  or  other  sudden  cause  which 
has  thrown  them  into  a  swoon,  readily  excused  herself 
from  throwing  much  light  on  the  matter,  by  pleading 
the  general  confusion.  And  in  a  few  minutes,  Albert 
cut  oflf  all  further  inquiry  by  entering  the  room,  followed 
by  the  Doctor,  and  throwing  himself  alternately  into 
the  arms  of  his  father  and  of  his  sister. 


CHAPTER  XX 

The  boy  is  —  bark  ye,  sirrah,  what's  your  name? 
Oh,  Jacob  —  ay,  I  recollect  —  the  same. 

Crabbe. 

The  affectionate  relatives  were  united  as  those,  who, 
meeting  under  great  adversity,  feel  still  the  happiness 
of  sharing  it  in  common.  They  embraced  again  and 
again,  and  gave  way  to  those  expansions  of  the  heart 
which  at  once  express  and  relieve  the  pressure  of  mental 
agitation.  At  length  the  tide  of  emotion  began  to  sub- 
side; and  Sir  Henry,  still  holding  his  recovered  son  by 
the  hand,  resumed  the  command  of  his  feelings  which 
he  usually  practised. 

'  So  you  have  seen  the  last  of  our  battles,  Albert,'  he 
said,  'and  the  King's  colours  have  fallen  for  ever  before 
the  rebels? ' 

'It  is  but  even  so,'  said  the  young  man:  'the  last  cast 
of  the  die  was  thrown,  and,  alas!  lost,  at  Worcester;  and 
Cromwell's  fortune  carried  it  there,  as  it  has  wherever 
he  has  shown  himself.' 

'  Well,  it  can  but  be  for  a  time  —  it  can  but  be  for  a 
time,'  answered  his  father:  'the  Devil  is  potent,  they 
say,  in  raising  and  gratifying  favourites,  but  he  can 
grant  but  short  leases.  And  the  King  —  the  King,  Al- 
bert —  the  —  King  —  in  my  ear  —  close  —  close ! ' 

'Our  last  news  were  confident  that  he  had  escaped 
from  Bristol.' 

31 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'Thank  God  for  that  —  thank  God  for  that! '  said  the 
knight.   'Where  didst  thou  leave  him?' 

'Our  men  were  almost  all  cut  to  pieces  at  the  bridge,' 
Albert  replied ;  '  but  I  followed  his  Majesty,  with  about 
five  hundred  other  officers  and  gentlemen,  who  were  re- 
solved to  die  around  him,  until,  as  our  numbers  and 
appearance  drew  the  whole  pursuit  after  us,  it  pleased 
his  Majesty  to  dismiss  us,  with  many  thanks  and  words 
of  comfort  to  us  in  general,  and  some  kind  expressions 
to  most  of  us  in  especial.  He  sent  his  royal  greeting  to 
you,  sir,  in  particular,  and  said  more  than  becomes  me 
to  repeat.' 

'Nay,  I  will  hear  it  every  word,  boy,'  said  Sir  Henry; 
'is  not  the  certainty  that  thou  hast  discharged  thy  duty, 
and  that  King  Charles  owns  it,  enough  to  console  me  for 
all  we  have  lost  and  suffered,  and  wouldst  thou  stint  me 
of  it  from  a  false  shamefacedness?  I  will  have  it  out  of 
thee,  were  it  drawn  from  thee  with  cords.' 

'  It  shall  need  no  such  compulsion,'  said  the  young  man. 
*It  was  his  Majesty's  pleasure  to  bid  me  tell  Sir  Henry 
Lee,  in  his  name,  that  if  his  son  could  not  go  before  his 
father  in  the  race  of  royalty,  he  was  at  least  following 
him  closely,  and  would  soon  move  side  by  side.' 

'Said  he  so?'  answered  the  knight.  'Old  Victor  Lee 
will  look  down  with  pride  on  thee,  Albert!  But  I  forget 
—  you  must  be  weary  and  hungry.' 

'Even  so,  sir,'  said  Albert;  'but  these  are  things  which 
of  late  I  have  been  in  the  habit  of  enduring  for  safety's 
sake.' 

'  Joceline!  —  what  ho,  Joceline!' 

The  under-keeper  entered,  and  received  orders  to  get 
supper  prepared  directly. 

32 


WOODSTOCK 

'My  son  and  Dr.  Rochecliffe  are  half  starving,'  said 
the  knight. 

'And  there  is  a  lad,  too,  below,'  said  Joceline,  'a  page, 
he  says,  of  Colonel  Albert's,  whose  belly  rings  cupboard 
too,  and  that  to  no  common  tmie;  for  I  think  he  could 
eat  a  horse,  as  the  Yorkshireman  says,  behind  the  saddle. 
He  had  better  eat  at  the  sideboard;  for  he  has  devoured 
a  whole  loaf  of  bread  and  butter,  as  fast  as  Phoebe  could 
cut  it,  and  it  has  not  staid  his  stomach  for  a  minute;  and 
truly  I  think  you  had  better  keep  him  under  your  own 
eyes,  for  the  steward  beneath  might  ask  him  trouble- 
some questions  if  he  went  below.  And  then  he  is  impa- 
tient, as  all  your  gentlemen  pages  are,  and  is  saucy 
among  the  women.' 

'Whom  is  it  he  talks  of?  What  page  hast  thou  got, 
Albert,  that  bears  himself  so  ill? '  said  Sir  Henry. 

'The  son  of  a  dear  friend,  a  noble  lord  of  Scotland, 
who  followed  the  great  Montrose's  banner,  afterwards 
joined  the  King  in  Scotland,  and  came  with  him  as  far 
as  Worcester.  He  was  wounded  the  day  before  the  bat- 
tle, and  conjured  me  to  take  this  youth  under  my  charge, 
which  I  did,  something  unwillingly;  but  I  could  not  re- 
fuse a  father,  perhaps  on  his  death-bed,  pleading  for  the 
safety  of  an  only  son.' 

'Thou  hadst  deserved  an  halter,  hadst  thou  hesi- 
tated,' said  Sir  Henry;  'the  smallest  tree  can  always 
give  some  shelter,  and  it  pleases  me  to  think  the  old 
stock  of  Lee  is  not  so  totally  prostrate,  but  it  may  yet 
be  a  refuge  for  the  distressed.  Fetch  the  youth  in; 
he  is  of  noble  blood,  and  these  are  no  times  of  cere- 
mony, he  shall  sit  with  us  at  the  same  table,  page 
though  he  be;  and  if  you  have  not  schooled  him  hand- 

88  33 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

somely  in  his  manners,  he  may  not  be  the  worse  of 
some  lessons  from  me.' 

'You  will  excuse  his  national  drawling  accent,  sir?' 
said  Albert,  'though  I  know  you  like  it  not.' 

*I  have  small  cause,  Albert,'  answered  the  knight  — 
'small  cause.  Who  stirred  up  these  disunions?  The 
Scots.  Who  strengthened  the  hands  of  Parliament, 
when  their  cause  was  well-nigh  ruined?  The  Scots  again. 
Who  delivered  up  the  King,  their  countryman,  who  had 
flung  himself  upon  their  protection?  The  Scots  again. 
But  this  lad's  father,  you  say,  has  fought  on  the  part  of 
the  noble  Montrose;  and  such  a  man  as  the  great  Mar- 
quis may  make  amends  for  the  degeneracy  of  a  whole 
nation.' 

'Nay,  father,'  said  Albert,  'and  I  must  add  that, 
though  this  lad  is  uncouth  and  wayward,  and,  as  you 
will  see,  something  wilful,  yet  the  King  has  not  a  more 
zealous  friend  in  England;  and,  when  occasion  offered,  he 
fought  stoutly,  too,  in  his  defence.  I  marvel  he  comes 
not.' 

'He  hath  taken  the  bath,'  said  Joceline,  'and  nothing 
less  would  serve  than  that  he  should  have  it  immedi- 
ately; the  supper,  he  said,  might  be  got  ready  in  the 
meantime;  and  he  commands  all  about  him  as  if  he  were 
in  his  father's  old  castle,  where  he  might  have  called  long 
enough,  I  warrant,  without  any  one  to  hear  him.' 

'Indeed?'  said  Sir  Henry,  'this  must  be  a  forward 
chick  of  the  game  to  crow  so  early.  What  is  his  name?' 

'  His  name !  It  escapes  me  every  hour,  it  is  so  hard  a 
one,'  said  Albert.  'Kerneguy  is  his  name  —  Louis  Kerne- 
guy  ;  his  father  was  Lord  Killstewers,  of  Kincardineshire.' 

'Kerneguy  and  Killstewers,  and  Kin — what  d'  ye 

34 


WOODSTOCK 

call  it?  Truly,'  said  the  knight,  'these  Northern  men's 
names  and  titles  smack  of  their  origin:  they  sound  Hke  a 
north-west  wind,  rumbling  and  roaring  among  heather 
and  rocks.' 

'It  is  but  the  asperities  of  the  Celtic  and  Saxon  dia- 
lects,' said  Dr.  Rochecliffe,  'which,  according  to  Verste- 
gan,  still  Unger  in  those  northern  parts  of  the  island. 
Bur  peace  —  here  comes  supper,  and  Master  Louis 
Kerneguy.' 

Supper  entered  accordingly,  borne  in  by  Jocehne  and 
Phoebe,  and  after  it,  leaning  on  a  huge  knotty  stick,  and 
having  his  nose  in  the  air  like  a  questioning  hound,  for 
his  attention  was  apparently  more  fixed  on  the  good  pro- 
visions that  went  before  him  than  anything  else,  came 
Master  Kerneguy,  and  seated  himself,  without  much 
ceremony,  at  the  lower  end  of  the  table. 

He  was  a  tall,  rawboned  lad,  with  a  shock  head  of  hair, 
fiery  red,  like  many  of  his  country,  while  the  harshness 
of  his  national  features  was  increased  by  the  contrast  of 
his  complexion,  turned  almost  black  by  the  exposure  to 
all  sorts  of  weather,  which,  in  that  skulking  and  ram- 
bling mode  of  life  the  fugitive  Royalists  had  been  obliged 
to  encounter.  His  address  was  by  no  means  prepossess- 
ing, being  a  mixture  of  awkwardness  and  forwardness, 
and  showing,  in  a  remarkable  degree,  how  a  want  of 
easy  address  may  be  consistent  with  an  admirable  stock 
of  assurance.  His  face  intimated  having  received  some 
recent  scratches,  and  the  care  of  Dr.  Rochecliffe  had  de- 
corated it  with  a  number  of  patches,  which  even  en- 
hanced its  natural  plainness.  Yet  the  eyes  were  brilliant 
and  expressive,  and,  amid  his  ugliness  —  for  it  amounted 
to  that  degree  of  irregularity  —  the  face  was  not  defi- 

35 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

cient  in  some  lines  which  expressed  both  sagacity  and 
resolution. 

The  dress  of  Albert  himself  was  far  beneath  his  qual- 
ity as  the  son  of  Sir  Henry  Lee,  and  commander  of  a  regi- 
ment in  the  Royal  service;  but  that  of  his  page  was  still 
more  dilapidated.  A  disastrous  green  jerkin,  which  had 
been  changed  to  a  hundred  hues  by  sun  and  rain,  so 
that  the  original  could  scarce  be  discovered,  huge  clout- 
erly  shoes,  leathern  breeches  —  such  as  were  worn  by 
hedgers  —  coarse  grey  worsted  stockings,  were  the  at- 
tire of  the  honourable  youth,  whose  limping  gait,  while 
it  added  to  the  ungainliness  of  his  manner,  showed,  at 
the  same  time,  the  extent  of  his  sufferings.  His  appear- 
ance bordered  so  much  upon  what  is  vulgarly  called  the 
queer,  that  even  with  Alice  it  would  have  excited  some 
sense  of  ridicule,  had  not  compassion  been  predomi- 
nant. 

The  grace  was  said;  and  the  young  squire  of  Ditchley, 
as  well  as  Dr.  Rochecliffe,  made  an  excellent  figure  at  a 
meal  the  like  of  which,  in  quality  and  abundance,  did  not 
seem  to  have  lately  fallen  to  their  share.  But  their  feats 
were  child's  play  to  those  of  the  Scottish  youth.  Far 
from  betraying  any  symptoms  of  the  bread  and  butter 
with  which  he  had  attempted  to  close  the  orifice  of  his 
stomach,  his  appetite  appeared  to  have  been  sharpened 
by  a  nine  days'  fast;  and  the  knight  was  disposed  to 
think  that  the  very  genius  of  famine  himself,  come  forth 
from  his  native  regions  of  the  North,  was  in  the  act  of 
honouring  him  with  a  visit,  while,  as  if  afraid  of  losing 
a  moment's  exertion.  Master  Kerneguy  never  looked 
either  to  right  or  left,  or  spoke  a  single  word  to  any  at 
table. 

36 


WOODSTOCK 

'  I  am  glad  to  see  that  you  have  brought  a  good  appe- 
tite for  our  country  fare,  young  gentleman,'  said  Sir 
Henry. 

'  Bread  of  Gude!  sir,'  said  the  page,  'an  ye  '11  find  flesh, 
I  'se  find  appetite  conforming,  ony  day  o'  the  year.  But 
the  truth  is,  sir,  that  the  appeteezement  has  been  com- 
ing on  for  three  days  or  four,  and  the  meat  in  this  south- 
land of  yours  has  been  scarce,  and  hard  to  come  by;  so, 
sir,  I  'm  making  up  for  lost  time,  as  the  piper  of  Sligo 
said,  when  he  eat  a  hail  side  o'  mutton.' 

'You  have  been  country-bred,  young  man,'  said  the 
knight,  who,  Hke  others  of  his  time,  held  the  reins  of  dis- 
cipline rather  tight  over  the  rising  generation;  'at  least, 
to  judge  from  the  youths  of  Scotland  whom  I  have  seen 
at  his  late  Majesty's  court  in  former  days:  they  had  less 
appetite,  and  more  —  more  — '  As  he  sought  the  quali- 
fying phrase  which  might  supply  the  place  of  'good  man- 
ners,' his  guest  closed  the  sentence  in  his  own  way  — 
'And  more  meat,  it  may  be  —  the  better  luck  theirs.' 

Sir  Henry  stared  and  was  silent.  His  son  seemed  to 
think  it  time  to  interpose.  'My  dear  father,'  he  said, 
'  think  how  many  years  have  run  since  the  Thirty-eighth, 
when  the  Scottish  troubles  first  began,  and  I  am  sure 
that  you  will  not  wonder  that,  while  the  barons  of  Scot- 
land have  been,  for  one  cause  or  other,  perpetually  in 
the  field,  the  education  of  their  children  at  home  must 
have  been  much  neglected,  and  that  young  men  of  my 
friend's  age  know  better  how  to  use  a  broadsword  or  to 
toss  a  pike  than  the  decent  ceremonials  of  society.' 

'The  reason  is  a  sufficient  one,'  said  the  knight,  'and, 
since  thou  sayest  thy  follower  Kernigo  can  fight,  we  '11 
not  let  him  lack  victuals,  a  God's  name.   See,  he  looks 

37 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

angrily  still  at  yonder  cold  loin  of  mutton;  for  God's 
sake  put  it  all  on  his  plate ! ' 

*I  can  bide  the  bit  and  the  buffet/  said  the  Honour- 
able Master  Kemeguy:  'a  hungry  tike  ne'er  minds  a 
blaud  with  a  rough  bane.' 

'Now,  God  ha'e  mercy,  Albert,  but  if  this  be  the  son 
of  a  Scots  peer,'  said  Sir  Henry  to  his  son,  in  a  low  tone 
of  voice,  'I  would  not  be  the  English  ploughman  who 
would  change  manners  with  him,  for  his  ancient  blood, 
and  his  nobility,  and  his  estate  to  boot,  an  he  has  one. 
He  has  eaten,  as  I  am  a  Christian,  near  four  pounds  of 
solid  butcher's  meat,  and  with  the  grace  of  a  wolf  tug- 
ging at  the  carcass  of  a  dead  horse.  Oh,  he  is  about  to 
drink  at  last.  Soh!  he  wipes  his  mouth,  though,  and  dips 
his  fingers  in  the  ewer,  and  dries  them,  I  profess,  with 
the  napkin!  There  is  some  grace  in  him,  after  all.' 

'  Here  is  wussing  all  your  vera  gude  healths ! '  said  the 
youth  of  quality,  and  took  a  draught  in  proportion  to 
the  solids  which  he  had  sent  before;  he  then  flung  his 
knife  and  fork  awkwardly  on  the  trencher,  which  he 
pushed  back  towards  the  centre  of  the  table,  extended 
his  feet  beneath  it  till  they  rested  on  their  heels,  folded 
his  arms  on  his  well-replenished  stomach,  and,  lolling 
back  in  his  chair,  looked  much  as  if  he  was  about  to 
whistle  himself  to  sleep. 

*Soh!'  said  the  knight,  'the  Honourable  Master 
Kernigo  hath  laid  down  his  arms.  Withdraw  these 
things,  and  give  us  our  glasses.  Fill  them  around,  Joce- 
line;  and  if  the  Devil  or  the  whole  Parliament  were  within 
hearing,  let  them  hear  Henry  Lee  of  Ditchley  drink  a 
health  to  King  Charles,  and  confusion  to  his  enemies!' 

'Amen!'  said  a  voice  from  behind  the  door. 

38 


WOODSTOCK 

All  the  company  looked  at  each  other  in  astonish- 
ment, at  a  response  so  little  expected.  It  was  followed 
by  a  solemn  and  peculiar  tap,  such  as  a  kind  of  freema- 
sonry had  introduced  among  Royalists,  and  by  which 
they  were  accustomed  to  make  themselves  and  their 
principles  known  to  each  other  when  they  met  by  acci- 
dent. 

'There  is  no  danger,' said  Albert,  knowing  the  sign  — 
'it  is  a  friend;  yet  I  wish  he  had  been  at  a  greater  dis- 
tance just  now.' 

'And  why,  my  son,  should  you  wish  the  absence  of 
one  true  man,  who  may,  perhaps,  wish  to  share  our 
abundance,  on  one  of  those  rare  occasions  when  we  have 
superfluity  at  our  disposal?  Go,  Joceline,  see  who 
knocks;  and,  if  a  safe  man,  admit  him.' 

'And  if  otherwise,'  said  Joceline,  'methinks  I  shall  be 
able  to  prevent  his  troubling  the  good  company.' 

'No  violence,  Joceline,  on  your  life,'  said  Albert  Lee; 
and  AUce  echoed,  'For  God's  sake,  no  violence!' 

'No  unnecessary  violence  at  least,'  said  the  good 
knight;  'for,  if  the  time  demands  it,  I  will  have  it  seen 
that  I  am  master  of  my  own  house.' 

Joceline  Joliffe  nodded  assent  to  all  parties,  and  went 
on  tiptoe  to  exchange  one  or  two  other  mysterious  sym- 
bols and  knocks  ere  he  opened  the  door. 

It  may  be  here  remarked,  that  this  species  of  secret 
association,  with  its  signals  of  union,  existed  among  the 
more  dissolute  and  desperate  class  of  Cavaliers  —  men 
habituated  to  the  dissipated  life  which  they  had  been 
accustomed  to  in  an  ill-disciplined  army,  where  every- 
thing Hke  order  and  regularity  was  too  apt  to  be  ac- 
counted a  badge  of  Puritanism.  These  were  the  'roar- 

39 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

ing  boys 'who  met  in  hedge  alehouses,  and,  when  they 
had  by  any  chance  obtained  a  Uttle  money  or  a  little 
credit,  determined  to  create  a  counter-revolution  by  de- 
claring their  sittings  permanent,  and  proclaimed,  in  the 
words  of  one  of  their  choicest  ditties  — 

We'll  drink  till  we  bring 
In  triumph  back  the  king. 

The  leaders  and  gentry,  of  a  higher  description  and  more 
regular  morals,  did  not  indeed  partake  such  excesses,  but 
they  still  kept  their  eye  upon  a  class  of  persons  who,  from 
courage  and  desperation,  were  capable  of  serving  on  an 
advantageous  occasion  the  fallen  cause  of  Royalty;  and 
recorded  the  lodges  and  blind  taverns  at  which  they  met, 
as  wholesale  merchants  know  the  houses  of  call  of  the 
mechanics  whom  they  may  have  occasion  to  employ, 
and  can  tell  where  they  may  find  them  when  need  re- 
quires. It  is  scarce  necessary  to  add,  that  among  the 
lower  class,  and  sometimes  even  among  the  higher, 
there  were  men  found  capable  of  betraying  the  projects 
and  conspiracies  of  their  associates,  whether  well  or  in- 
differently combined,  to  the  governors  of  the  state. 
Cromwell,  in  particular,  had  gained  some  correspond- 
ents of  this  kind  of  the  highest  rank  and  of  the  most 
undoubted  character  among  the  Royalists,  who,  if  they 
made  scruple  of  impeaching  or  betraying  individuals 
who  confided  in  them,  had  no  hesitation  in  giving  the 
government  such  general  information  as  served  to  en- 
able him  to  disappoint  the  purposes  of  any  plot  or 
conspiracy. 

To  return  to  our  story.  In  much  shorter  time  than  we 
have  spent  in  reminding  the  reader  of  these  historical 

40 


WOODSTOCK 

particulars,  Joliffe  had  made  his  mystic  communication; 
and  being  duly  answered  as  by  one  of  the  initiated,  he 
undid  the  door,  and  there  entered  our  old  friend  Roger 
Wildrake,  Roundhead  in  dress,  as  his  safety  and  his 
dependence  on  Colonel  Everard  compelled  him  to  be, 
but  that  dress  worn  in  a  most  Cavalier-like  manner,  and 
forming  a  stronger  contrast  than  usual  with  the  de- 
meanour and  language  of  the  wearer,  to  which  it  was 
never  very  congenial. 

His  Puritanic  hat,  the  emblem  of  that  of  Ralpho  in  the 
prints  to  'Hudibras,'  or,  as  he  called  it,  his  felt  umbrella, 
was  set  most  knowingly  on  one  side  of  the  head,  as  if  it 
had  been  a  Spanish  hat  and  feather;  his  straight,  square- 
caped,  sad-coloured  cloak  was  flung  gaily  upon  one 
shoulder,  as  if  it  had  been  of  three-piled  taffeta,  lined 
with  crimson  silk;  and  he  paraded  his  huge  calf-skin 
boots,  as  if  they  had  been  silken  hose  and  Spanish 
leather  shoes,  with  roses  on  the  instep.  In  short,  the  airs 
which  he  gave  himself,  of  a  most  thoroughpaced  wild 
gallant  and  Cavalier,  joined  to  a  glistening  of  self- 
satisfaction  in  his  eye  and  an  inimitable  swagger  in  his 
gait,  which  completely  announced  his  thoughtless,  con- 
ceited, and  reckless  character,  formed  a  most  ridiculous 
contrast  to  his  gravity  of  attire. 

It  could  not,  on  the  other  hand,  be  denied  that,  in 
spite  of  the  touch  of  ridicule  which  attached  to  his  char- 
acter, and  the  loose  morality  which  he  had  learned  in  the 
dissipation  of  town  pleasures,  and  afterwards  in  the  dis- 
orderly life  of  a  soldier,  Wildrake  had  points  about  him 
both  to  make  him  feared  and  respected.  He  was  hand- 
some, even  in  spite  of  his  air  of  debauched  effrontery;  a 
man  of  the  most  decided  courage,  though  his  vaunting 

41 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

rendered  it  sometimes  doubtful;  and  entertained  a  sin- 
cere sense  of  his  political  principles,  such  as  they  were, 
though  he  was  often  so  imprudent  in  asserting  and 
boasting  of  them  as,  joined  with  his  dependence  on 
Colonel  Everard,  induced  prudent  men  to  doubt  his 
sincerity. 

Such  as  he  was,  however,  he  entered  the  parlour  of 
Victor  Lee,  where  his  presence  was  anything  but  desir- 
able to  the  parties  present,  with  a  jaunty  step,  and  a 
consciousness  of  deserving  the  best  possible  reception. 
This  assurance  was  greatly  aided  by  circumstances 
which  rendered  it  obvious  that,  if  the  jocund  Cavalier 
had  limited  himself  to  one  draught  of  liquor  that  even- 
ing, in  terms  of  his  vow  of  temperance,  it  must  have 
been  a  very  deep  and  long  one. 

*  Save  ye,  gentlemen  —  save  ye.  Save  you,  good  Sir 
Henry  Lee,  though  I  have  scarce  the  honour  to  be  known 
to  you.  Save  you,  worthy  Doctor,  and  a  speedy  resur- 
rection to  the  fallen  Church  of  England.' 

'You  are  welcome,  sir,'  said  Sir  Henry  Lee,  whose 
feelings  of  hospitality,  and  of  the  fraternal  reception  due 
to  a  Royalist  sufferer,  induced  him  to  tolerate  this  in- 
trusion more  than  he  might  have  done  otherwise.  'If 
you  have  fought  or  suffered  for  the  King,  sir,  it  is  an 
excuse  for  joining  us,  and  commanding  our  services  in 
anything  in  our  power,  although  at  present  we  are  a 
family-party.  But  I  think  I  saw  you  in  waiting  upon 
Master  Markham  Everard,  who  calls  himself  Colonel 
Everard.  If  your  message  is  from  him,  you  may  wish  to 
see  me  in  private?' 

'Not  at  all.  Sir  Henry  —  not  at  all.  It  is  true,  as  my 
ill  hap  will  have  it,  that,  being  on  the  stormy  side  of  the 

42 


WOODSTOCK 

hedge,  like  all  honest  men  —  you  understand  me,  Sir 
Henry  —  I  am  glad,  as  it  were,  to  gain  something  from 
my  old  friend  and  comrade's  countenance,  not  by  truck- 
Hng  or  disowning  my  principles,  sir  —  I  defy  such  prac- 
tices —  but,  in  short,  by  doing  him  any  kindness  in  my 
power  when  he  is  pleased  to  call  on  me.  So  I  came  down 
here  with  a  message  from  him  to  the  old  Roundheaded 
son  of  a  —  I  beg  the  young  lady's  pardon,  from  the 
crown  of  her  head  down  to  the  very  toes  of  her  shpper. 
And  so,  sir,  chancing  as  I  was  stumbHng  out  in  the  dark, 
I  heard  you  give  a  toast,  sir,  which  warmed  my  heart, 
sir,  and  ever  will,  sir,  till  death  chills  it;  and  so  I  made 
bold  to  let  you  know  there  was  an  honest  man  within 
hearing.' 

Such  was  the  self-introduction  of  Master  Wildrake,  to 
which  the  knight  repHed,  by  asking  him  to  sit  down  and 
take  a  glass  of  sack  to  his  Majesty's  glorious  restoration. 
Wildrake,  at  this  hint,  squeezed  in  without  ceremony 
beside  the  young  Scotsman,  and  not  only  pledged  his 
landlord's  toast,  but  seconded  its  import,  by  volunteer- 
ing a  verse  or  two  of  his  favourite  loyal  ditty,  'The  King 
shall  enjoy  his  own  again.'  The  heartiness  which  he 
threw  into  his  song  opened  still  further  the  heart  of  the 
old  knight,  though  Albert  and  Alice  looked  at  each  other 
with  looks  resentful  of  the  intrusion,  and  desirous  to  put 
an  end  to  it.  The  Honourable  Master  Kerneguy  either 
possessed  that  happy  indifference  of  temper  which  does 
not  deign  to  notice  such  circumstances,  or  he  was  able 
to  assume  the  appearance  of  it  to  perfection,  as  he  sat 
sipping  sack  and  cracking  walnuts,  without  testifying 
the  least  sense  that  an  addition  had  been  made  to  the 
party.   Wildrake,  who  liked  the  liquor  and  the  company^ 

43 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

showed  no  unwillingness  to  repay  his  landlord,  by  being 
at  the  expense  of  the  conversation. 

'You  talk  of  fighting  and  suffering,  Sir  Henry  Lee  — 
Lord  help  us,  we  have  all  had  our  share.  All  the  world 
knows  what  Sir  Henry  Lee  has  done  from  Edgefield 
downwards,  wherever  a  loyal  sword  was  drawn  or  a 
loyal  flag  fluttered.  Ah,  God  help  us !  I  have  done  some- 
thing too.  My  name  is  Roger  Wildrake  of  Squattlesea 
Mere,  Lincoln ;  not  that  you  are  ever  like  to  have  heard 
it  before,  but  I  was  captain  in  Lunsford's  light  horse, 
and  afterwards  with  Goring.  I  was  a  child-eater,  sir  —  a 
babe-bolter.' 

*I  have  heard  of  your  regiment's  exploits,  sir;  and 
perhaps  you  may  find  I  have  seen  some  of  them,  if  we 
should  spend  ten  minutes  together.  And  I  think  I  have 
heard  of  your  name  too.  I  beg  to  drink  your  health. 
Captain  Wildrake  of  Squattlesea  Mere,  Lincolnshire.' 

'Sir  Henry,  I  drink  yours  in  this  pint  bumper,  and 
upon  my  knee;  and  I  would  do  as  much  for  that  young 
gentleman  (looking  at  Albert) ,  and  the  squire  of  the 
green  cassock,  too,  holding  it  for  green,  as  the  colours 
are  not  to  my  eyes  altogether  clear  and  distinguishable.' 

It  was  a  remarkable  part  of  what  is  cafled  by  theatri- 
cal folk  the  bye-play  of  this  scene,  that  Albert  was  con- 
versing apart  with  Dr.  Rochecliffe  in  whispers,  even 
more  than  the  divine  seemed  desirous  of  encouraging, 
yet,  to  whatever  their  private  conversation  referred,  it 
did  not  deprive  the  young  colonel  of  the  power  of  Hsten- 
ing  to  what  was  going  forward  in  the  party  at  large,  and 
interfering  from  time  to  time,  like  a  watch-dog  who  can 
distinguish  the  slightest  alarm  even  when  employed  in 
the  engrossing  process  of  taking  his  food. 

44 


WOODSTOCK 

*  Captain  Wildrake,'  said  Albert,  'we  have  no  objec- 
tion — I  mean  my  friend  and  I  —  to  be  communicative  on 
proper  occasions;  but  you,  sir,  who  are  so  old  a  sufferer, 
must  needs  know,  that  at  such  casual  meetings  as  this 
men  do  not  mention  their  names  unless  they  are  spe- 
cially wanted.  It  is  a  point  of  conscience,  sir,  to  be  able 
to  say,  if  your  principal.  Captain  Everard,  or  Colonel 
Everard,  if  he  be  a  colonel,  should  examine  you  upon 
oath,  "I  did  not  know  who  the  persons  were  whom  I 
heard  drink  such  and  such  toasts.'" 

'Faith,  I  have  a  better  way  of  it,  worthy  sir,'  an- 
swered Wildrake : '  I  never  can,  for  the  life  of  me,  remem- 
ber that  there  were  any  such  and  such  toasts  dnmk  at 
all.  It's  a  strange  gift  of  forgetfulness  I  have.' 

'Well,  sir,'  replied  the  younger  Lee;  *  but  we,  who  have 
unhappily  more  tenacious  memories,  would  willingly 
abide  by  the  more  general  rule.' 

*0h,  sir,'  answered  Wildrake,  'with  all  my  heart.  I 
intrude  on  no  man's  confidence,  d — n  me,  and  I  only 
spoke  for  civility's  sake,  having  the  purpose  of  drinking 
your  health  in  a  good  fashion.'  Then  he  broke  forth  into 
melody: 

*  Then  let  the  health  go  round,  a-round,  a-round,  a-round, 
Then  let  the  health  go  round. 
For  though  your  stocking  be  of  silk, 

Your  knee  shall  kiss  the  ground,  a-ground,  a-ground,  a-ground, 
Your  knee  shall  kiss  the  ground.' 

'Urge  it  no  further,'  said  Sir  Henry,  addressing  his 
son.  '  Master  Wildrake  is  one  of  the  old  school  —  one  of 
the  tantivy  boys;  and  we  must  bear  a  Httle,  for  if  they 
drink  hard,  they  fought  well.  I  will  never  forget  how  a 
party  came  up  and  rescued  us  clerks  of  Oxford,  as  they 

45 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

called  the  regiment  I  belonged  to,  out  of  a  cursed  em- 
broglio  during  the  attack  on  Brentford.  I  tell  you,  we 
were  inclosed  with  the  cockneys'  pikes  both  front  and 
rear,  and  we  should  have  come  off  but  ill,  had  not 
Lunsford's  light  horse,  the  babe-eaters,  as  they  called 
them,  charged  up  to  the  pike's  point  and  brought  us  off.' 

*  I  am  glad  you  thought  on  that.  Sir  Henry,'  said  Wild- 
rake;  'and  do  you  remember  what  the  officer  of  Luns- 
ford's said? ' 

.    'I  think  I  do,'  said  Sir  Henry,  smiling. 
'    'Well,  then,  did  not  he  call  out,  when  the  women  were 
coming  down,  howling  like  sirens  as  they  were,  "Have 
none  of  you  a  plump  child  that  you  could  give  us,  to 
break  our  fast  upon?'" 

*  Truth  itself ! '  said  the  knight ;  *  and  a  great  fat  woman 
stepped  forward  with  a  baby,  and  offered  it  to  the  sup- 
posed cannibal.' 

All  at  the  table,  Master  Kerneguy  excepted,  who 
seemed  to  think  that  good  food  of  any  kind  required  no 
apology,  held  up  their  hands  in  token  of  amazement. 

'Ay,'  said  Wildrake,  'the  —  a-hem!  —  I  crave  the 
lady's  pardon  again,  from  tip  of  top-knot  to  hem  of 
farthingale  —  but  the  cursed  creature  proved  to  be  a 
parish  nurse,  who  had  been  paid  for  the  child  half  a  year 
in  advance.  God,  I  took  the  baby  out  of  the  bitch- 
wolf's  hand;  and  I  have  contrived,  though  God  knows 
I  have  lived  in  a  skeldering  sort  of  way  myself,  to  breed 
up  bold  Breakfast,  as  I  call  him,  ever  since.  It  was  pay- 
ing dear  for  a  jest,  though.' 

'Sir,  I  honour  you  for  your  humanity,'  said  the  old 
knight.  'Sir,  I  thank  you  for  your  courage.  Sir,  I  am 
glad  to  see  you  here,'  said  the  good  knight,  his  eyes  wat- 

46 


WOODSTOCK 

ering  almost  to  overflowing.  'So  you  were  the  wild 
officer  who  cut  us  out  of  the  toils?  Oh,  sir,  had  you  but 
stopped  when  I  called  on  you,  and  allowed  us  to  clear  the 
streets  of  Brentford  with  our  musketeers,  we  would  have 
been  at  London  Stone  that  day !  But  your  good- will  was 
the  same.' 

'Ay,  truly  was  it,'  said  Wildrake,  who  now  sat  trium- 
phant and  glorious  in  his  easy-chair.  'And  here  is  to  all 
the  brave  hearts,  sir,  that  fought  and  fell  in  that  same 
storm  of  Brentford.  We  drove  all  before  us  like  chaff, 
till  the  shops,  where  they  sold  strong  waters,  and  other 
temptations,  brought  us  up.  Gad,  sir,  we,  the  babe- 
eaters,  had  too  many  acquaintances  in  Brentford,  and 
our  stout  Prince  Rupert  was  ever  better  at  making  way 
than  drawing  off.  Gad,  sir,  for  my  own  poor  share,  I  did 
but  go  into  the  house  of  a  poor  widow  lady,  who  main- 
tained a  charge  of  daughters,  and  whom  I  had  known  of 
old,  to  get  my  horse  fed,  a  morsel  of  meat,  and  so  forth, 
when  these  cockney  pikes  of  the  artillery  ground,  as  you 
very  well  call  them,  rallied,  and  came  in  with  their 
armed  heads,  as  boldly  as  so  many  Cotswold  rams.  I 
sprang  downstairs  —  got  to  my  horse;  but,  egad,  I  fancy 
all  my  troop  had  widows  and  orphan  maidens  to  comfort 
as  well  as  I,  for  only  five  of  us  got  together.  We  cut  our 
way  through  successfully;  and  gad,  gentlemen,  I  carried 
my  little  Breakfast  on  the  pommel  before  me;  and  there 
was  such  a  hollowing  and  screeching,  as  if  the  whole 
town  thought  I  was  to  kill,  roast,  and  eat  the  poor  child 
so  soon  as  I  got  to  quarters.  But  devil  a  cockney 
charged  up  to  my  bonny  bay,  poor  lass,  to  rescue  little 
cake-bread;  they  only  cried  "Haro,"  and  "Out  upon 
me.'" 

47 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

*Alas!  alas!'  said  the  knight,  'we  made  ourselves  seem 
worse  than  we  were;  and  we  were  too  bad  to  deserve 
God's  blessing  even  in  a  good  cause.  But  it  is  needless  to 
look  back;  we  did  not  deserve  victories  when  God  gave 
them,  for  we  never  improved  them  like  good  soldiers,  or 
like  Christian  men;  and  so  we  gave  these  canting  scoun- 
drels the  advantage  of  us,  for  they  assumed,  out  of  mere 
hypocrisy,  the  discipHne  and  orderly  behaviour  which 
we,  who  drew  our  swords  in  a  better  cause,  ought  to  have 
practised  out  of  true  principle.  But  here  is  my  hand, 
captain.  I  have  often  wished  to  see  the  honest  fellow 
who  charged  up  so  smartly  in  our  behalf,  and  I  reverence 
you  for  the  care  you  took  of  the  poor  child.  I  am  glad 
this  dilapidated  place  has  still  some  hospitality  to  offer 
you,  although  we  cannot  treat  you  to  roasted  babes  or 
stewed  sucklings  —  eh,  captain?' 

'Troth,  Sir  Henry,  the  scandal  was  sore  against  us  on 
that  score.  I  remember  Lacy,  who  was  an  old  play-actor, 
and  a  lieutenant  in  ours,  made  drollery  on  it  in  a  play 
which  was  sometimes  acted  at  Oxford  when  our  hearts 
were  something  up,  called,  I  think,  the  Old  Troop.'  ^ 

So  saying,  and  feeling  more  familiar  as  his  merits  were 
known,  he  hitched  his  chair  up  against  that  of  the  Scot- 
tish lad,  who  was  seated  next  him,  and  who,  in  shifting 
his  place,  was  awkward  enough  to  disturb,  in  his  turn, 
Alice  Lee,  who  sat  opposite,  and,  a  little  offended,  or  at 
least  embarrassed,  drew  her  chair  away  from  the  table. 
*I  crave  pardon,'  said  the  Honourable  Master  Kerne- 
guy;  'but,  sir,'  to  Master  Wildrake,  'ye  hae  e'en  garr'd 
me  hurt  the  young  lady's  shank.' 

'  I  crave  your  pardon,  sir,  and  much  more  that  of  the 
^  See  Note  i. 
48 


WOODSTOCK 

fair  lady,  as  is  reasonable;  though,  rat  me,  sir,  if  it  was  I 
set  your  chair  a-trundling  in  that  way.  Zooks,  sir,  I  have 
brought  with  me  no  plague,  nor  pestilence,  nor  other  in- 
fectious disorder,  that  ye  should  have  started  away  as  if 
I  had  been  a  leper,  and  discomposed  the  lady,  which  I 
would  have  prevented  with  my  life,  sir.  Sir,  if  ye  be 
Northern-born,  as  your  tongue  bespeaks,  egad,  it  was  I 
ran  the  risk  in  drawing  near  you;  so  there  was  small 
reason  for  you  to  bolt.' 

'Master  Wildrake,'  said  Albert,  interfering,  'this 
young  gentleman  is  a  stranger  as  well  as  you,  under  pro- 
tection of  Sir  Henry's  hospitality,  and  it  cannot  be  agree- 
able for  my  father  to  see  disputes  arise  among  his  guests. 
You  may  mistake  the  young  gentleman's  quaUty  from 
his  present  appearance:  this  is  the  Honourable  Master 
Louis  Kerneguy,  sir,  son  of  my  Lord  Killstewers  of 
Kincardineshire,  one  who  has  fought  for  the  King,  young 
as  he  is.' 

'No  dispute  shall  rise  through  me,  sir  —  none  through 
me,'  said  Wildrake;  'your  exposition  sufficeth,  sir.  Mas- 
ter Louis  Girnigo,  son  of  my  Lord  Kilsteer,  in  Gringar- 
denshire,  I  am  your  humble  slave,  sir,  and  drink  your 
health,  in  token  that  I  honour  you,  and  all  true  Scots 
who  draw  their  Andrew  Ferraras  on  the  right  side,  sir.' 

'I  'se  beholden  to  you,  and  thank  you,  sir,'  said  the 
young  man,  with  some  haughtiness  of  manner,  which 
hardly  corresponded  with  his  rusticity;  'and  I  wuss  your 
health  in  a  ceevil  way.' 

Most  judicious  persons  would  have  here  dropped  the 
conversation;  but  it  was  one  of  Wildrake's  marked  pe- 
culiarities that  he  could  never  let  matters  stand  when 
they  were  well.  He  continued  to  plague  the  shy,  proud, 

38  49 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

and  awkward  lad  with  his  observations.  'You  speak 
your  national  dialect  pretty  strongly,  Master  Girnigo/ 
said  he,  '  but  I  think  not  quite  the  language  of  the  gal- 
lants that  I  have  known  among  the  Scottish  Cavaliers. 
I  knew,  for  example,  some  of  the  Gordons,  and  others  of 
good  repute,  who  always  put  an/  for  the  wh,  a.sfaat  for 
what,  fan  for  when,  and  the  like.' 

Albert  Lee  here  interposed,  and  said  that  the  pro- 
vinces of  Scotland,  like  those  of  England,  had  their 
different  modes  of  pronunciation. 

'You  are  very  right,  sir,'  said  Wildrake.  *I  reckon 
myself,  now,  a  pretty  good  speaker  of  their  cursed  jargon 
• —  no  offence,  young  gentleman ;  and  yet,  when  I  took  a 
turn  with  some  of  Montrose's  folk,  in  the  South  Hie- 
lands,  as  they  call  their  beastly  wildernesses  —  no 
offence  again  —  I  chanced  to  be  by  myself,  and  to  lose 
my  way,  when  I  said  to  a  shepherd  fellow,  making  my 
mouth  as  wide  and  my  voice  as  broad  as  I  could, 
"Whore  am  I  ganging  till?"  confound  me  if  the  fellow 
could  answer  me,  unless,  indeed,  he  was  sulky,  as  the 
bumpkins  will  be  now  and  then  to  the  gentlemen  of  the 
sword.' 

This  was  familiarly  spoken,  and  though  partly  ad- 
dressed to  Albert,  was  still  more  directed  to  his  immedi- 
ate neighbour,  the  young  Scotsman,  who  seemed,  from 
bashfulness,  or  some  other  reason,  rather  shy  of  his 
intimacy.  To  one  or  two  personal  touches  from  Wild- 
rake's  elbow,  administered  during  his  last  speech,  by 
way  of  a  practical  appeal  to  him  in  particular,  he  only 
answered,  'Misunderstandings  were  to  be  expected 
when  men  converse  in  national  deealects.' 

Wildrake,  now  considerably  drunker  than  he  ought  to 

50 


WOODSTOCK 

have  been  in  civil  company,  caught  up  the  phrase  and 

repeated  it.  *  Misunderstanding,  sir  —  misunderstand- 
ing, sir!  I  do  not  know  how  I  am  to  construe  that,  sir; 
but,  to  judge  from  the  information  of  these  scratches  on 
your  honourable  visnomy,  I  should  augur  that  you  had 
been  of  late  at  misunderstanding  with  the  cat,  sir.' 

'You  are  mistaken,  then,  friend,  for  it  was  with  the 
dowg,'  answered  the  Scotsman,  drily,  and  cast  a  look 
towards  Albert. 

*  We  had  some  trouble  with  the  watch-dogs  in  entering 
so  late  in  the  evening,'  said  Albert,  in  explanation,  'and 
this  youth  had  a  fall  among  some  rubbish,  by  which  he 
came  by  these  scratches.' 

'And  now,  dear  Sir  Henry,'  said  Dr.  Rochecliffe,  'al- 
low us  to  remind  you  of  your  gout,  and  our  long  journey. 
I  do  it  the  rather  that  my  good  friend  your  son  has  been, 
during  the  whole  time  of  supper,  putting  questions  to  me 
aside,  which  had  much  better  be  reserved  till  to-morrow. 
May  we  therefore  ask  permsision  to  retire  to  our  night's 
rest? ' 

'These  private  committees  in  a  merry  meeting,'  said 
Wildrake,  'are  a  solecism  in  breeding.  They  always  put 
me  in  mind  of  the  cursed  committees  at  Westminster. 
But  shall  we  to  roost  before  we  rouse  the  night-owl  with 
a  catch? ' 

'Aha,  canst  thou  quote  Shakespeare?'  said  Sir  Henry, 
pleased  at  discovering  a  new  good  quality  in  his  ac- 
quaintance, whose  military  services  were  otherwise  but 
just  able  to  counterbalance  the  intrusive  freedom  of  his 
conversation.  'In  the  name  of  merry  Will,'  he  con- 
tinued —  'whom  I  never  saw,  though  I  have  seen  many 
of  his  comrades,  as  Alleyn,  Hemminge,  and  so  on,  we  will 

51 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

have  a  single  catch,  and  one  rouse  about,  and  then  to 
bed.' 

After  the  usual  discussion  about  the  choice  of  the 
song,  and  the  parts  which  each  was  to  bear,  they  united 
their  voices  in  trolling  a  loyal  glee,  which  was  popular 
among  the  party  at  the  time,  and  in  fact  believed  to  be 
composed  by  no  less  a  person  than  Dr.  Rochecliffe 
himself. 

(3ltt  for  feinff  CI)arIe6 

Bring  the  bowl  which  you  boast, 

Fill  it  up  to  the  brim; 
'T  is  to  him  we  love  most, 

And  to  all  who  love  him. 
Brave  gallants,  stand  up, 

And  avaunt,  ye  base  cades! 
Were  there  death  in  the  cup, 

Here's  a  health  to  King  Chades! 

Though  he  wanders  through  dangers, 

Unaided,  unknown, 
Dependent  on  strangers, 

Estranged  from  his  own; 
Though  't  is  under  our  breath, 

Amidst  forfeits  and  perils, 
Here 's  to  honour  and  faith, 

And  a  health  to  King  Charles  I 

Let  such  honours  abound 

As  the  time  can  afford, 
The  knee  on  the  ground 

And  the  hand  on  the  sword; 
But  the  time  shall  come  round, 

When,  'mid  lords,  dukes,  and  earls, 
The  loud  trumpets  shall  sound 

Here's  a  health  to  King  Charles! 

After  this  display  of  loyalty,  and  a  final  libation,  the 
party  took  leave  of  each  other  for  the  night.  Sir  Henry 

52 


WOODSTOCK 

ofifered  his  old  acquaintance  Wildrake  a  bed  for  the 
evening,  who  weighed  the  matter  somewhat  in  this 
fashion:  'Why,  to  speak  truth,  my  patron  will  expect  me 
at  the  borough;  but  then  he  is  used  to  my  staying  out  of 
doors  anights.  Then  there's  the  Devil,  that  they  say 
haunts  Woodstock;  but  with  the  blessing  of  this  rever- 
end doctor,  I  defy  him  and  all  his  works.  I  saw  him  not 
when  I  slept  here  twice  before,  and  I  am  sure  if  he  was 
absent  then,  he  has  not  come  back  with  Sir  Henry  Lee 
and  his  family.  So  I  accept  your  courtesy.  Sir  Henry, 
and  I  thank  you,  as  a  Cavalier  of  Lunsford  should  thank 
one  of  the  fighting  clerks  of  Oxon.  God  bless  the  King! 
I  care  not  who  hears  it,  and  confusion  to  Noll  and  his  red 
nose!'  Off  he  went  accordingly  with  a  bottle-swagger, 
guided  by  Joceline,  to  whom  Albert,  in  the  meantime, 
had  whispered,  to  be  sure  to  quarter  him  far  enough 
from  the  rest  of  the  family. 

Young  Lee  then  saluted  his  sister,  and,  with  the  form- 
ality of  those  times,  asked  and  received  his  father's 
blessing  with  an  affectionate  embrace.  His  page  seemed 
desirous  to  imitate  one  part  of  his  example,  but  was 
repelled  by  Alice,  who  only  replied  to  his  offered  salute 
with  a  curtsy.  He  next  bowed  his  head  in  an  awkward 
fashion  to  her  father,  who  wished  him  a  good-night.  *  I 
am  glad  to  see,  young  man,'  he  said,  'that  you  have  at 
least  learned  the  reverence  due  to  age.  It  should  always 
be  paid,  sir;  because  in  doing  so  you  render  that  honour 
to  others  which  you  will  expect  yourself  to  receive  when 
you  approach  the  close  of  your  Ufe.  More  will  I  speak 
with  you  at  leisure,  on  your  duties  as  a  page,  which 
office  in  former  days  used  to  be  the  very  school  of  chiv- 
alry; whereas  of  late,  by  the  disorderly  times,  it  has  be- 

53 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

come  little  better  than  a  school  of  wild  and  disordered 
license,  which  made  rare  Ben  Jonson  exclaim  — ' 

*Nay,  father/  said  Albert,  interposing,  'you  must 
consider  this  day's  fatigue,  and  the  poor  lad  is  almost 
asleep  on  his  legs;  to-morrow,  he  will  listen  with  more 
profit  to  your  kind  admonitions.  And  you,  Louis,  re- 
member at  least  one  part  of  your  duty :  take  the  candles 
and  light  us  —  here  Joceline  comes  to  show  us  the  way. 
Once  more,  good-night,  good  Dr.  Rochecliffe  —  good- 
night, all.' 


CHAPTER  XXI 

Groom.  Hafl,  royal  prince! 

King  Richard.  Thanks,  noble  peerl 

The  cheapest  of  us  is  ten  groats  too  dear. 

Richard  II. 

Albert  and  his  page  were  ushered  by  Joceline  to  what 
was  called  the  Spanish  chamber,  a  huge  old  scrambling 
bedroom,  rather  in  a  dilapidated  condition,  but  furnished 
with  a  large  standing-bed  for  the  master  and  a  truckle- 
bed  for  the  domestic,  as  was  common  at  a  much  later 
period  in  old  English  houses,  where  the  gentleman  often 
required  the  assistance  of  a  groom  of  the  chambers  to 
help  him  to  bed,  if  the  hospitahty  had  been  exuberant. 
The  walls  were  covered  with  hangings  of  cordovan 
leather,  stamped  with  gold,  and  representing  fights  be- 
tween the  Spaniards  and  Moriscoes,  bull-feasts,  and 
other  sports  peculiar  to  the  Peninsula,  from  which  it 
took  its  name  of  the  Spanish  Chamber.  These  hangings 
were  in  some  places  entirely  torn  down,  in  others  defaced 
and  hanging  in  tatters.  But  Albert  stopped  not  to  make 
observations,  anxious,  it  seemed,  to  get  Joceline  out  of 
the  room ;  which  he  achieved  by  hastily  answering  his  of- 
fers of  fresh  fuel,  and  more  liquor,  in  the  negative,  and 
returning,  with  equal  conciseness,  the  under-keeper's 
good  wishes  for  the  evening.  He  at  length  retired,  some- 
what unwilHngly,  and  as  if  he  thought  that  his  young 
master  might  have  bestowed  a  few  more  words  upon  a 
faithful  old  retainer  after  so  long  absence. 
Joliffe  was  no  sooner  gone  than,  before  a  single  word 

55 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

was  spoken  between  Albert  Lee  and  his  page,  the  former 
hastened  to  the  door,  examined  lock,  latch,  and  bolt, 
and  made  them  fast,  with  the  most  scrupulous  attention. 
He  superadded  to  these  precautions  that  of  a  long  screw- 
bolt,  which  he  brought  out  of  his  pocket,  and  which  he 
screwed  on  to  the  staple  in  such  a  manner  as  to  render 
it  impossible  to  withdraw  it,  or  open  the  door,  unless  by 
breaking  it  down.  The  page  held  a  light  to  him  during 
the  operation,  which  his  master  went  through  with  much 
exactness  and  dexterity.  But  when  Albert  arose  from 
his  knee,  on  which  he  had  rested  during  the  accomplish- 
ment of  this  task,  the  manner  of  the  companions  was 
on  the  sudden  entirely  changed  towards  each  other.  The 
Honourable  Master  Kerneguy,  from  a  cubbish  lout  of  a 
raw  Scotsman,  seemed  to  have  acquired  at  once  all  the 
grace  and  ease  of  motion  and  manner  which  could  be 
given  by  an  acquaintance  of  the  earliest  and  most  fa- 
miliar kind  with  the  best  company  of  the  time. 

He  gave  the  light  he  held  to  Albert  with  the  easy  in- 
difference of  a  superior,  who  rather  graces  than  troubles 
his  dependant  by  giving  him  some  sUght  service  to  per- 
form. Albert,  with  the  greatest  appearance  of  deference, 
assumed  in  his  turn  the  character  of  a  torch-bearer,  and 
lighted  his  page  across  the  chamber,  without  turning 
his  back  upon  him,  as  he  did  so.  He  then  set  the  Hght 
on  a  table  by  the  bedside,  and,  approaching  the  young 
man  with  deep  reverence,  received  from  him  the  soiled 
green  jacket  with  the  same  profound  respect  as  if  he  had 
been  a  first  lord  of  the  bedchamber,  or  other  officer  of 
the  household  of  the  highest  distinction,  disrobing  his 
sovereign  of  the  Mantle  of  the  Garter,  The  person 
to  whom  this  ceremony  was  addressed  endured  it  for  a 

56 


WOODSTOCK 

minute  or  two  with  profound  gravity,  and  then  burst- 
ing out  a  laughing,  exclaimed  to  Albert,  *  What  a  devil 
means  all  this  formality?  thou  complimentest  with  these 
miserable  rags  as  if  they  were  silks  and  sables,  and  with 
poor  Louis  Kerneguy  as  if  he  were  the  King  of  Great 
Britain?' 

'And  if  your  Majesty's  commands,  and  the  circum- 
stances of  the  time,  had  made  me  for  a  moment  seem  to 
forget  that  you  are  my  sovereign,  surely  I  may  be  per- 
mitted to  render  my  homage  as  such  while  you  are  in 
your  own  royal  palace  of  Woodstock?' 

'Truly,'  replied  the  disguised  monarch,  'the  sovereign 
and  the  palace  are  not  ill  matched :  these  tattered  hang- 
ings and  my  ragged  jerkin  suit  each  other  admirably. 
This  Woodstock !  —  this  the  bower  where  the  royal 
Norman  revelled  with  the  fair  Rosamond  ClifTord !  Why, 
it  is  a  place  of  assignation  for  owls!'  Then,  suddenly 
recollecting  himself,  with  his  natural  courtesy,  he  added, 
as  if  fearing  he  might  have  hurt  Albert's  feeUngs  —  '  But 
the  more  obscure  and  retired,  it  is  the  fitter  for  our  pur- 
pose, Lee;  and  if  it  does  seem  to  be  a  roost  for  owls,  as 
there  is  no  denying,  why,  we  know  it  has  nevertheless 
brought  up  eagles.' 

He  threw  himself  as  he  spoke  upon  a  chair,  and  in- 
dolently, but  gracefully,  received  the  kind  offices  of  Al- 
bert, who  undid  the  coarse  buttonings  of  the  leather 
gamashes  which  defended  his  legs,  and  spoke  to  him  the 
whilst.  '  What  a  fine  specimen  of  the  olden  times  is  your 
father.  Sir  Henry!  It  is  strange  I  should  not  have  seen 
him  before ;  but  I  heard  my  father  often  speak  of  him  as 
being  among  the  flower  of  our  real  old  English  gentry. 
By  the  mode  in  which  he  began  to  school  me,  I  can  guess 

57 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

you  had  a  tight  taskmaster  of  him,  Albert.  I  warrant 
you  never  wore  hat  in  his  presence,  eh? ' 

'  I  never  cocked  it  at  least  in  his  presence,  please  your 
Majesty,  as  I  have  seen  some  youngsters  do,'  answered 
Albert;  'indeed,  if  I  had,  it  must  have  been  a  stout 
beaver  to  have  saved  me  from  a  broken  head.' 

'Oh,  I  doubt  it  not,'  repHed  the  King;  *a  fine  old 
gentleman,  but  with  that,  methinks,  in  his  countenance 
that  assures  you  he  would  not  hate  the  child  in  sparing 
the  rod.  Hark  ye,  Albert.  Suppose  the  same  glorious 
Restoration  come  round,  which,  if  drinking  to  its  arrival 
can  hasten  it,  should  not  be  far  distant,  for  in  that  par- 
ticular our  adherents  never  neglect  their  duty  —  suppose 
it  come,  therefore,  and  that  thy  father,  as  must  be,  of 
course,  becomes  an  earl  and  one  of  the  privy  council, 
odds-fish,  man,  I  shall  be  as  much  afraid  of  him  as  ever 
was  my  grandfather  Henri  Quatre  of  old  Sully.  Imagine 
there  were  such  a  trinket  now  about  the  court  as  the 
Fair  Rosamond,  or  La  Belle  Gabrielle,  what  a  work  there 
would  be  of  pages  and  grooms  of  the  chamber  to  get  the 
pretty  rogue  clandestinely  shufiled  out  by  the  back- 
stairs, like  a  prohibited  commodity,  when  the  step  of 
the  Earl  of  Woodstock  was  heard  in  the  ante-chamber.' 

'I  am  glad  to  see  your  Majesty  so  merry  after  your 
fatiguing  journey.' 

'The  fatigue  was  nothing,  man,'  said  Charles;  'a  kind 
welcome  and  a  good  meal  made  amends  for  all  that. 
But  they  must  have  suspected  thee  of  bringing  a  wolf 
from  the  braes  of  Badenoch  along  with  you,  instead  of  a 
two-legged  being,  with  no  more  than  the  usual  allow- 
ance of  mortal  stowage  for  provisions.  I  was  really 
ashamed  of  my  appetite;  but  thou  knowest  I  had  eat 

58 


WOODSTOCK 

nothing  for  twenty-four  hours,  save  the  raw  egg  you 
stole  for  me  from  the  old  woman's  hen-roost.  I  tell  thee, 
I  blushed  to  show  myself  so  ravenous  before  that  high- 
bred and  respectable  old  gentleman  your  father,  and  the 
very  pretty  girl  your  sister  —  or  cousin,  is  she? ' 

'She  is  my  sister,'  said  Albert  Lee,  drily,  and  added, 
in  the  same  breath,  'Your  Majesty's  appetite  suited 
well  enough  with  the  character  of  a  raw  Northern  lad. 
Would  your  Majesty  now  please  to  retire  to  rest?' 

'Not  for  a  minute  or  two,'  said  the  King,  retaininp' 
his  seat.  '  Why,  man,  I  have  scarce  had  my  tongue  un- 
chained to-day;  and  to  talk  with  that  Northern  twang, 
and  besides,  the  fatigue  of  being  obhged  to  speak  every 
word  in  character  —  gad,  it 's  Uke  walking  as  the  gal- 
ley-slaves do  on  the  Continent,  with  a  twenty-four 
pound  shot  chained  to  their  legs:  they  may  drag  it  along, 
but  they  cannot  move  with  comfort.  And,  by  the  way, 
thou  art  slack  in  pacing  me  my  well-deserved  tribute 
of  compUments  on  my  counterfeiting.  Did  I  not  play 
Louis  Kerneguy  as  round  as  a  ring?' 

'If  your  Majesty  asks  my  serious  opinion,  perhaps  I 
may  be  forgiven  if  I  say  your  dialect  was  somewhat 
too  coarse  for  a  Scottish  youth  of  high  birth,  and  your 
behaviour  perhaps  a  Httle  too  churHsh.  I  thought  too, 
though  I  pretend  not  to  be  skilful,  that  some  of  your 
Scottish  sounded  as  if  it  were  not  genuine.' 

'Not  genuine?  There  is  no  pleasing  thee,  Albert. 
Why,  who  should  speak  genuine  Scottish  but  myself  ? 
Was  I  not  their  king  for  a  matter  of  ten  months?  and 
if  I  did  not  get  knowledge  of  their  language,  I  wonder 
what  else  I  got  by  it.  Did  not  cast  country,  and  south 
country,  and  west  country,  and  Highlands  caw,  croak, 

59 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

and  shriek  about  me,  as  the  deep  guttural,  the  broad 
drawl,  and  the  high  sharp  yelp  predominated  by  turns  ? 
Odds-fish,  man,  have  I  not  been  speeched  at  by  their 
orators,  addressed  by  their  senators,  rebuked  by  their 
kirkmen?  Have  I  not  sate  on  the  cutty-stool,  mon  [again 
assuming  the  Northern  dialect],  and  thought  it  grace 
of  worthy  Mas  John  Gillespie,  that  I  was  permitted  to 
do  penance  in  mine  own  privy  chamber,  instead  of  the 
face  of  the  congregation,  and  wilt  thou  tell  me,  after  all, 
that  I  cannot  speak  Scotch  enough  to  baffle  an  Oxon 
knight  and  his  family? ' 

'May  it  please  your  Majesty,  I  began  by  saying  I  was 
no  judge  of  the  Scottish  language.' 

'Pshaw,  it  is  mere  envy;  just  so  you  said  at  Norton's, 
that  I  was  too  courteous  and  civil  for  a  young  page  — 
now  you  think  me  too  rude.' 

'And  there  is  a  medium,  if  one  could  find  it,'  said 
Albert,  defending  his  opinion  in  the  same  tone  in  which 
the  King  attacked  him ; '  so  this  morning,  when  you  were 
in  the  woman's  dress,  you  raised  your  petticoats  rather 
unbecomingly  high,  as  you  waded  through  the  first  little 
stream ;  and  when  I  told  you  of  it,  to  mend  the  matter, 
you  draggled  through  the  next  without  raising  them  at 
all.' 

'O,  the  devil  take  the  woman's  dress!'  said  Charles; 
'I  hope  I  shall  never  be  driven  to  that  disguise  again. 
Why,  my  ugly  face  was  enough  to  put  gowns,  caps,  and 
kirtles  out  of  fashion  for  ever:  the  very  dogs  fled  from 
me.  Had  I  passed  any  hamlet  that  had  but  five  huts  in 
it,  I  could  not  have  escaped  the  cucking-stool.  I  was 
a  libel  on  womanhood.  These  leathern  conveniences  are 
none  of  the  gayest,  but  they  are  propria  quce  marihus; 

60 


WOODSTOCK 

and  right  glad  am  I  to  be  repossessed  of  them.  I  can  tell 
you  too,  my  friend,  I  shall  resume  all  my  masculine 
privileges  with  my  proper  habiliments;  and  as  you  say 
I  have  been  too  coarse  to-night,  I  will  behave  myself  like 
a  courtier  to  Mistress  Alice  to-morrow.  I  made  a  sort 
of  acquaintance  with  her  already,  when  I  seemed  to  be 
of  the  same  sex  with  herself,  and  found  out  there  are 
other  colonels  in  the  wind  besides  you,  Colonel  Albert 
Lee.' 

'May  it  please  your  Majesty,'  said  Albert,  and  then 
stopped  short,  from  the  diiSculty  of  finding  words  to 
express  the  unpleasant  nature  of  his  feelings. 

They  could  not  escape  Charles;  but  he  proceeded 
without  scruple.  'I  pique  myself  on  seeing  as  far  into 
the  hearts  of  young  ladies  as  most  folk,  though  God 
knows  they  are  sometimes  too  deep  for  the  wisest  of  us. 
But  I  mentioned  to  your  sister  in  my  character  of  for- 
tune-teller —  thinking,  poor  simple  man,  that  a  country 
girl  must  have  no  one  but  her  brother  to  dream  about 
—  that  she  was  anxious  about  a  certain  colonel.  I  had 
hit  the  theme,  but  not  the  person;  for  I  alluded  to  you, 
Albert,  and  I  presume  the  blush  was  too  deep  ever  to  be 
given  to  a  brother.  So  up  she  got,  and  away  she  flew 
from  me  like  a  lapwing.  I  can  excuse  her;  for,  looking  at 
myself  in  the  well,  I  think  if  I  had  met  such  a  creature 
as  I  seemed  I  should  have  called  fire  and  fagot  against 
it.  Now,  what  think  you,  Albert  —  who  can  this  colonel 
be,  that  more  than  rivals  you  in  your  sister's  affection?' 

Albert,  who  well  knew  that  the  King's  mode  of  think- 
ing, where  the  fair  sex  was  concerned,  was  far  more  gay 
than  delicate,  endeavoured  to  put  a  stop  to  the  present 
topic  by  a  grave  answer. 

6i 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'His  sister,'  he  said,  'had  been  in  some  measure  edu- 
cated with  the  son  of  her  maternal  uncle,  Markham 
Everard;  but  as  his  father  and  he  himself  had  adopted 
the  cause  of  the  Roundheads,  the  families  had  in  conse- 
quence been  at  variance ;  and  any  projects  which  might 
have  been  formerly  entertained  were  of  course  long  since 
dismissed  on  all  sides.' 

'You  are  wrong,  Albert  —  you  are  wrong,'  said  the 
King,  pitilessly  pursuing  his  jest.  '  You  colonels,  whether 
you  wear  blue  or  orange  sashes,  are  too  pretty  fellows  to 
be  dismissed  so  easily,  when  once  you  have  acquired  an 
interest.  But  Mistress  Alice,  so  pretty,  and  who  wishes 
the  restoration  of  the  King  with  such  a  look  and  accent, 
as  if  she  were  an  angel  whose  prayers  must  needs  bring 
it  down,  must  not  be  allowed  to  retain  any  thoughts  of 
a  canting  Roundhead.  What  say  you  —  will  you  give 
me  leave  to  take  her  to  task  about  it?  After  all,  I  am 
the  party  most  concerned  in  maintaining  true  allegiance 
among  my  subjects;  and  if  I  gain  the  pretty  maiden's 
good-will,  that  of  the  sweetheart  will  soon  follow.  This 
was  jolly  King  Edward's  way  —  Edward  the  Fourth, 
you  know.  The  king-making  Earl  of  Warwick,  the 
Cromwell  of  his  day,  dethroned  him  more  than  once; 
but  he  had  the  hearts  of  the  merry  dames  of  London,  and 
the  purses  and  veins  of  the  cockneys  bled  freely,  till  they 
brought  him  home  again.  How  say  you?  shall  I  shake  off 
my  Northern  slough,  and  speak  with  Alice  in  my  own 
character,  showing  what  education  and  manners  have 
done  for  me,  to  make  the  best  amends  they  can  for  an 
ugly  face?' 

'May  it  please  your  Majesty,'  said  Albert,  in  an  al- 
tered and  embarrassed  tone,  'I  did  not  expect  — ' 

62 


WOODSTOCK 

Here  he  stopped,  not  able  to  find  words  adequate  at 
the  same  time  to  express  his  sentiments  and  respectful 
enough  to  the  King,  while  in  his  father's  house  and  under 
his  own  protection. 

'And  what  is  it  that  Master  Lee  does  not  expect?' 
said  Charles,  with  marked  gravity  on  his  part. 

Again  Albert  attempted  a  reply,  but  advanced  no 
further  than,  'I  would  hope,  if  it  please  your  Majesty 
—  'when  he  again  stopped  short,  his  deep  and  hereditary 
respect  for  his  sovereign,  and  his  sense  of  the  hospitality 
due  to  his  misfortunes,  preventing  his  giving  utterance 
to  his  irritated  feelings. 

'And  what  does  Colonel  Albert  Lee  hope?'  said 
Charles,  in  the  same  dry  and  cold  manner  in  which  he 
had  before  spoken.  'No  answer!  Now,  / /?o/>e  that  Colo- 
nel Lee  does  not  see  in  a  silly  jest  anything  ofifensive 
to  the  honour  of  his  family,  since  methinks  that  were 
an  indifferent  compHment  to  his  sister,  his  father,  and 
himself,  not  to  mention  Charles  Stuart,  whom  he  calls 
his  king';  and  /  expect  that  I  shall  not  be  so  hardly  con- 
strued as  to  be  supposed  capable  of  forgetting  that  Mis- 
tress Alice  Lee  is  the  daughter  of  my  faithful  subject 
and  host,  and  the  sister  of  my  guide  and  preserver. 
Come  —  come,  Albert,'  he  added,  changing  at  once  to 
his  naturally  frank  and  unceremonious  manner,  'you 
forget  how  long  I  have  been  abroad,  where  men,  women, 
and  children  talk  gallantry  morning,  noon,  and  night, 
with  no  more  serious  thought  than  just  to  pass  away  the 
time;  and  I  forget  too,  that  you  are  of  the  old-fashioned 
English  school,  a  son  after  Sir  Henry's  own  heart,  and 
don't  understand  raillery  upon  such  subjects.  But  I  ask 
your  pardon,  Albert,  sincerely,  if  I  have  really  hurt  you.* 

63 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

So  saying,  he  extended  his  hand  to  Colonel  Lee,  who, 
feeling  he  had  been  rather  too  hasty  in  construing  the 
King's  jest  in  an  unpleasant  sense,  kissed  it  with  rever- 
ence, and  attempted  an  apology. 

'Not  a  word  —  not  a  word,'  said  the  good-natured 
prince,  raising  his  penitent  adherent  as  he  attempted  to 
kneel;  'we  understand  each  other.  You  are  somewhat 
afraid  of  the  gay  reputation  which  I  acquired  in  Scot- 
land; but  I  assure  you,  I  will  be  as  stupid  as  you  or 
your  cousin  colonel  could  desire  in  presence  of  Mrs.  Alice 
Lee,  and  only  bestow  my  gallantry,  should  I  have  any 
to  throw  away,  upon  the  pretty  little  waiting-maid  who 
attended  at  supper  —  unless  you  should  have  monop- 
olised her  ear  for  your  own  benefit.  Colonel  Albert.' 

*It  is  monopolised,  sure  enough,  though  not  by  me, 
if  it  please  your  Majesty,  but  by  Joceline  Johffe,  the 
under-keeper,  whom  we  must  not  disoblige,  as  we  have 
trusted  him  so  far  already,  and  may  have  occasion  to 
repose  even  entire  confidence  in  him.  I  half  think  he 
suspects  who  Louis  Kerneguy  may  in  reality  be.' 

'You  are  an  engrossing  set,  you  wooers  of  Wood- 
stock,' said  the  King,  laughing.  '  Now,  if  I  had  a  fancy, 
as  a  Frenchman  would  not  fail  to  have  in  such  a  case, 
to  make  pretty  speeches  to  the  deaf  old  woman  I  saw 
in  the  kitchen,  as  a  pis-aller,  I  dare  say  I  should  be  told 
that  her  ear  was  engrossed  for  Dr.  Rochecliffe's  sole  use?' 

'  I  marvel  at  your  Majesty's  good  spirits,'  said  Albert, 
'  that,  after  a  day  of  danger,  fatigue,  and  accidents,  you 
should  feel  the  power  of  amusing  yourself  thus.' 

'That  is  to  say,  the  groom  of  the  chambers  wishes  his 
Majesty  would  go  to  sleep?  Well,  one  word  or  two  on 
more  serious  business,  and  I  have  done.    I  have  been 

64 


WOODSTOCK 

completely  directed  by  you  and  Rochecliffe:  I  have 
changed  my  disguise  from  female  to  male  upon  the 
instant,  and  altered  my  destination  from  Hampshire  to 
take  shelter  here.  Do  you  still  hold  it  to  the  wiser 
course?' 

*I  have  great  confidence  in  Dr.  Rochechffe/  replied 
Albert,  'whose  acquaintance  with  the  scattered  Royal- 
ists enables  him  to  gain  the  most  accurate  intelligence. 
His  pride  in  the  extent  of  his  correspondence,  and  the 
complication  of  his  plots  and  schemes  for  your  Majesty's 
service,  is  indeed  the  very  food  he  hves  upon;  but  his 
sagacity  is  equal  to  his  vanity.  I  repose,  besides,  the 
utmost  faith  in  Joliffe.  Of  my  father  and  sister  I  would 
say  nothing;  yet  I  would  not,  without  reason,  extend 
the  knowledge  of  your  Majesty's  person  farther  than  it 
is  indispensably  necessary.' 

*Is  it  handsome  in  me,'  said  Charles,  pausing,  'to 
withhold  my  full  confidence  from  Sir  Henry  Lee?' 

'Your  Majesty  heard  of  his  almost  death-swoon  of 
last  night:  what  would  agitate  him  most  deeply  must 
not  be  hastily  communicated.' 

'True;  but  are  we  safe  from  a  visit  of  the  redcoats: 
they  have  them  in  Woodstock  as  well  as  in  Oxford?' 
said  Charles. 

*Dr.  Rochecliffe  says,  not  unwisely,'  answered  Lee, 
'that  it  is  best  sitting  near  the  fire  when  the  chimney 
smokes;  and  that  Woodstock,  so  lately  in  possession  of 
the  sequestrators,  and  still  in  the  vicinity  of  the  soldiers, 
will  be  less  suspected,  and  more  carelessly  searched, 
than  more  distant  corners,  which  might  seem  to  promise 
more  safety.  Besides,'  he  added,  'Rochecliffe  is  in  pos- 
session of  curious  and  important  news  concerning  the 

.38  6s 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

state  of  matters  at  Woodstock,  highly  favourable  to  your 
Majesty's  being  concealed  in  the  palace  for  two  or  three 
days,  till  shipping  is  provided.  The  Parliament,  or 
usurping  Council  of  State,  had  sent  down  sequestrators, 
whom  their  own  evil  consciences,  assisted,  perhaps,  by 
the  tricks  of  some  daring  Cavaliers,  had  frightened  out 
of  the  lodge,  without  much  desire  to  come  back  again. 
Then  the  more  formidable  usurper,  Cromwell,  had 
granted  a  warrant  of  possession  to  Colonel  Everard,  who 
had  only  used  it  for  the  purpose  of  repossessing  his  uncle 
in  the  lodge,  and  who  kept  watch  in  person  at  the  little 
'  borough,  to  see  that  Sir  Henry  was  not  disturbed.' 

'What!  Mistress  Alice's  colonel?'  said  the  King. 
'  That  sounds  alarming;  for,  grant  that  he  keeps  the  other 
fellows  at  bay,  think  you  not.  Master  Albert,  he  will 
have  an  hundred  errands  a-day  to  bring  him  here  in 
person? ' 

'Dr.  Rochecliffe  says,'  answered  Lee,  'the  treaty  be- 
tween Sir  Henry  and  his  nephew  binds  the  latter  not  to 
approach  the  lodge  unless  invited;  indeed,  it  was  not 
without  great  difficulty,  and  strongly  arguing  the  good 
consequences  it  might  produce  to  your  Majesty's  cause, 
that  my  father  could  be  prevailed  on  to  occupy  Wood- 
stock at  all;  but  be  assured  he  will  be  in  no  hurry  to 
send  an  invitation  to  the  colonel.' 

'And  be  you  assured  that  the  colonel  will  come  with- 
out waiting  for  one,'  said  Charles.  'Folk  cannot  judge 
rightly  where  sisters  are  concerned:  they' are  too  famihar 
with  the  magnet  to  judge  of  its  powers  of  attraction. 
Everard  will  be  here,  as  if  drawn  by  cart-ropes;  fetters, 
not  to  talk  of  promises,  will  not  hold  him;  and  then, 
methinks,  we  are  in  some  danger.' 

66 


WOODSTOCK 

*I  hope  not/  said  Albert.  'In  the  first  place,  I  know 
Markham  is  a  slave  to  his  word;  besides,  were  any 
chance  to  bring  him  here,  I  think  I  could  pass  your  Ma- 
jesty upon  him  without  difficulty  as  Louis  Kerneguy. 
Then,  although  my  cousin  and  I  have  not  been  on  good 
terms  for  these  some  years,  I  believe  him  incapable  of 
betraying  your  Majesty;  and  lastly,  if  I  saw  the  least 
danger  of  it,  I  would,  were  he  ten  times  the  son  of  my 
mother's  sister,  run  my  sword  through  his  body  ere  he 
had  time  to  execute  his  purpose.' 

'There  is  but  another  question,'  said  Charles,  'and  I 
will  release  you,  Albert.  You  seem  to  think  yourself 
secure  from  search.  It  may  be  so;  but,  in  any  other 
country,  this  tale  of  goblins  which  is  flying  about  would 
bring  down  priests  and  ministers  of  justice  to  examine 
the  reality  of  the  story,  and  mobs  of  idle  people  to  sat- 
isfy their  curiosity.' 

'Respecting  the  first,  sir,  we  hope  and  understand 
that  Colonel  Everard's  influence  will  prevent  any  im- 
mediate inquiry,  for  the  sake  of  preserving  undisturbed 
the  peace  of  his  uncle's  family;  and  as  for  any  one 
coming  without  some  sort  of  authority,  the  whole 
neighbours  have  so  much  love  and  fear  of  my  father, 
and  are,  besides,  so  horribly  alarmed  about  the  goblins 
of  Woodstock,  that  fear  will  silence  curiosity.' 

'On  the  whole,  then,'  said  Charles,  'the  chances  of 
safety  seem  to  be  in  favour  of  the  plan  we  have  adopted, 
which  is  all  I  can  hope  for  in  a  condition  where  absolute 
safety  is  out  of  the  question.  The  bishop  recommended 
Dr.  Rochecliffe  as  one  of  the  most  ingenious,  boldest, 
and  most  loyal  sons  of  the  Church  of  England;  you, 
Albert  Lee,  have  marked  your  fidelity  by  a  hundred 

67 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

proofs.  To  you  and  your  local  knowledge  I  submit  my- 
self. And  now,  prepare  our  arms;  alive  I  will  not  be 
taken,  yet  I  will  not  believe  that  a  son  of  the  King  of 
England,  and  heir  of  her  throne,  could  be  destined  to 
danger  in  his  own  palace,  and  under  the  guard  of  the 
loyal  Lees.' 

Albert  Lee  laid  pistols  and  swords  in  readiness  by  the 
King's  bed  and  his  own;  and  Charles,  after  some  slight 
apology,  took  his  place  in  the  larger  and  better  bed,  with 
a  sigh  of  pleasure,  as  from  one  who  had  not  lately  enjoyed 
such  an  indulgence.  He  bid  good-night  to  his  faithful 
attendant,  who  deposited  himself  on  his  truckle;  and 
both  monarch  and  subject  were  soon  fast  alseep. 


CHAPTER  XXII 


Give  Sir  Nicholas  Threlkeld  praise; 
Hear  it,  good  man,  old  in  days, 
Thou  tree  of  succour  and  of  rest 
To  this  young  bird  that  was  distress'd; 
Beneath  thy  branches  he  did  stay; 
And  he  was  free  to  sport  and  play. 
When  falcons  were  abroad  for  prey. 

Wordsworth. 


The  fugitive  prince  slept,  in  spite  of  danger,  with  the 
profound  repose  which  youth  and  fatigue  inspire.  But 
the  young  Cavalier,  his  guide  and  guard,  spent  a  more 
restless  night,  starting  from  time  to  time  and  listening; 
anxious,  notwithstanding  Dr.  Rochecliffe's  assurances, 
to  procure  yet  more  particular  knowledge  concerning 
the  state  of  things  around  them  than  he  had  been  yet 
able  to  collect. 

He  rose  early  after  daybreak;  but  although  he  moved 
with  as  little  noise  as  was  possible,  the  slumbers  of  the 
hunted  prince  were  easily  disturbed.  He  started  up  in 
his  bed,  and  asked  if  there  was  any  alarm. 

'None,  please  your  Majesty,'  replied  Lee;  'only, 
thinking  on  the  questions  your  Majesty  was  asking  last 
night,  and  the  various  chances  there  are  of  your  Maj- 
esty's safety  being  endangered  from  unforeseen  acci- 
dents, I  thought  of  going  thus  early,  both  to  commun- 
icate with  Dr.  Rochecliffe  and  to  keep  such  a  look-out  as 
befits  the  place  where  are  lodged  for  the  time  the  for- 
tunes of  England.  I  fear  I  must  request  of  your  Majesty 
for  your  own  gracious  security,  that  you  have  the  good- 

69 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

ness  to  condescend  to  secure  the  door  with  your  own 
hand  after  I  go  out.' 

'Oh,  talk  not  to  Majesty,  for  Heaven's  sake,  dear 
Albert!'  answered  the  poor  King,  endeavouring  in  vain 
to  put  on  a  part  of  his  clothes  in  order  to  traverse  the 
room.  'When  a  king's  doublet  and  hose  are  so  ragged 
that  he  can  no  more  find  his  way  into  them  than  he  could 
have  travelled  through  the  Forest  of  Deane  without  a 
guide,  good  faith,  there  should  be  an  end  of  Majesty, 
until  it  chances  to  be  better  accommodated.  Besides, 
there  is  the  chance  of  these  big  words  bolting  out  at 
unawares,  when  there  are  ears  to  hear  them  whom  we 
might  think  dangerous.' 

'Your  commands  shall  be  obeyed,'  said  Lee,  who  had 
now  succeeded  in  opening  the  door,  from  which  he  took 
his  departure,  leaving  the  King,  who  had  hustled  along 
the  floor  for  that  purpose,  with  his  dress  wofully  ill  ar- 
ranged, to  make  it  fast  again  behind  him,  and  begging 
him  in  no  case  to  open  to  any  one,  unless  he  or  Roche- 
cliffe  were  of  the  party  who  summoned  him. 

Albert  then  set  out  in  quest  of  Dr.  Rochecliffe's  apart- 
ment, which  was  only  known  to  himself  and  the  faithful 
Joliffe,  and  had  at  different  times  accommodated  that 
steady  churchman  with  a  place  of  concealment,  when, 
from  his  bold  and  busy  temper,  which  led  him  into  the 
most  extensive  and  hazardous  machinations  on  the 
King's  behalf,  he  had  been  strictly  sought  after  by  the 
opposite  party.  Of  late,  the  inquest  after  him  had  died 
entirely  away,  as  he  had  prudently  withdrawn  himself 
from  the  scene  of  his  intrigues.  Since  the  loss  of  the  bat- 
tle of  Worcester,  he  had  been  afloat  again,  and  more 
active  than  ever-^  and  had,  by  friends  and  correspond- 

70 


WOODSTOCK 

ents,  and  especially  the  Bishop  of  — '-,  been  the  means 
of  directing  the  King's  flight  towards  Woodstock,  al- 
though it  was  not  until  the  very  day  of  his  arrival  that 
he  could  promise  him  a  safe  reception  at  that  ancient 
mansion. 

Albert  Lee,  though  he  revered  both  the  undaunted 
spirit  and  ready  resources  of  the  bustling  and  intriguing 
churchman,  felt  he  had  not  been  enabled  by  him  to  an- 
swer some  of  Charles's  questions  yesternight  in  a  way  so 
distinct  as  one  trusted  with  the  King's  safety  ought  to 
have  done;  and  it  was  now  his  object  to  make  himself 
personally  acquainted,  if  possible,  with  the  various 
bearings  of  so  weighty  a  matter,  as  became  a  man  on 
whom  so  much  of  the  responsibility  was  likely  to  de- 
scend. 

Even  his  local  knowledge  was  scarce  adequate  to  find 
the  Doctor's  secret  apartment,  had  he  not  traced  his  way 
after  a  genial  flavour  of  roasted  game  through  divers 
blind  passages,  and  up  and  down  certain  very  useless 
stairs,  through  cupboards  and  hatchways,  and  so  forth, 
to  a  species  of  sajictum  sanctorum,  where  Joceline  Jolifife 
was  ministering  to  the  good  Doctor  a  solemn  breakfast 
of  wild-fowl,  with  a  cup  of  small  beer  stirred  with  a  sprig 
of  rosemary,  which  Dr.  Rochecliffe  preferred  to  all 
strong  potations.  Beside  him  sat  Bevis  on  his  tail,  slob- 
bering and  looking  amiable,  moved  by  the  rare  smell  of 
the  breakfast,  which  had  quite  overcome  his  native  dig- 
nity of  disposition. 

The  chamber  in  which  the  Doctor  had  established 
himself  was  a  little  octangular  room,  with  walls  of  great 
thickness,  within  which  wxre  fabricated  various  issues, 
leading  in  different  directions,  and  communicating  with 

71 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

different  parts  of  the  building.  Around  him  were  pack- 
ages with  arms,  and  near  him  one  small  barrel,  as  it 
seemed,  of  gunpowder;  many  papers  in  different  parcels, 
and  several  keys  for  correspondence  in  cipher;  two  or 
three  scrolls  covered  with  hieroglyphics  were  also  beside 
him,which  Albert  took  for  plans  of  nativity;  and  various 
models  of  machinery,  in  which  Dr.  Rochecliffe  was  an 
adept.  There  were  also  tools  of  various  kinds,  masks, 
cloaks,  and  a  dark  lantern,  and  a  number  of  other  inde- 
scribable trinkets  belonging  to  the  trade  of  a  daring 
plotter  in  dangerous  times.  Last,  there  was  a  casket  with 
gold  and  silver  coin  of  different  countries,  which  was  left 
carelessly  open,  as  if  it  were  the  least  of  Dr.  Roche- 
cliffe's  concern,  although  his  habits  in  general  announced 
narrow  circumstances,  if  not  actual  poverty.  Close  by 
the  divine's  plate  lay  a  Bible  and  Prayer  Book,  with 
some  proof-sheets,  as  they  are  technically  called,  seem- 
ingly fresh  from  the  press.  There  were  also  within  the 
reach  of  his  hand  a  dirk,  or  Scottish  poniard,  a  powder- 
horn,  and  a  musketoon,  or  blunderbuss,  with  a  pair  of 
handsome  pocket-pistols.  In  the  midst  of  this  miscel- 
laneous collection,  the  Doctor  sat  eating  his  breakfast 
with  great  appetite,  as  little  dismayed  by  the  various 
implements  of  danger  around  him  as  a  workman  is 
when  accustomed  to  the  perils  of  a  gunpowder  manu- 
factory. 

*Soh,  young  gentleman,'  he  said,  getting  up  and  ex- 
tending his  hand,  'are  you  come  to  breakfast  with  me  in 
good  fellowship,  or  to  spoil  my  meal  this  morning,  as 
you  did  my  supper  last  night,  by  asking  untimely 
questions? ' 

'I  will  pick  a  bone  with  you  with  all  my  heart,'  said 

72 


WOODSTOCK 

Albert;  'and  if  you  please,  Doctor,  I  would  ask  some 
questions  which  seem  not  quite  untimely.' 

So  saying  he  sat  down  and  assisted  the  Doctor  in 
giving  a  very  satisfactory  account  of  a  brace  of  wild 
ducks  and  a  leash  of  teal.  Bevis,  who  maintained  his 
place  with  great  patience  and  insinuation,  had  his  share 
of  a  collop,  which  was  also  placed  on  the  well-furnished 
board;  for,  like  most  high-bred  dogs,  he  declined  eating 
waterfowl. 

'Come  hither,  then,  Albert  Lee,'  said  the  Doctor,  lay- 
ing down  his  knife  and  fork,  and  plucking  the  towel  from 
his  throat,  so  soon  as  Joceline  was  withdrawn ; '  thou  art 
still  the  same  lad  thou  wert  when  I  was  thy  tutor  — 
never  satisfied  with  having  got  a  grammar  rule,  but 
always  persecuting  me  with  questions  why  the  rule  stood 
so,  and  not  otherwise  —  over-curious  after  information 
which  thou  couldst  not  comprehend,  as  Bevis  slobbered 
and  whined  for  the  duck-wing,  which  he  could  not 
eat.' 

'I  hope  you  will  find  me  more  reasonable.  Doctor,'  an- 
swered Albert;  'and  at  the  same  time,  that  you  will 
recollect  I  am  not  now  sub  ferula,  but  am  placed  in  cir- 
cumstances where  I  am  not  at  liberty  to  act  upon  the 
ipse  dixit  of  any  man,  unless  my  own  judgment  be  con- 
vinced. I  shall  deserve  richly  to  be  hanged,  drawn, 
and  quartered  should  any  misfortune  happen  by  my 
misgovernment  in  this  business.' 

'And  it  is  therefore,  Albert,  that  I  would  have  thee 
trust  the  whole  to  me,  without  interfering.  Thou  sayst, 
forsooth,  thou  art  not  sub  ferula;  but  recollect  that,  while 
you  have  been  fighting  in  the  field,  I  have  been  plotting 
in  the  study;  that  I  know  all  the  combinations  of  the 

73 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

King's  friends,  ay,  and  all  the  motions  of  his  enemies,  as 
well  as  a  spider  knows  every  mesh  of  his  web.  Think  of 
my  experience,  man.  Not  a  Cavalier  in  the  land  but  has 
heard  of  Rochecliffe  the  Plotter.  I  have  been  a  main 
limb  in  everything  that  has  been  attempted  since  forty- 
two  —  penned  declarations,  conducted  correspondence, 
communicated  with  chiefs,  recruited  followers,  commis- 
sioned arms,  levied  money,  appointed  rendezvouses.  I 
was  in  the  Western  Rising;  and  before  that,  in  the  City 
Petition,  and  in  Sir  John  Owen's  stir  in  Wales;  in  short, 
almost  in  every  plot  for  the  King,  since  Tomkins  and 
Challoner's  matter.' 

'But  were  not  all  these  plots  unsuccessful?'  said 
Albert;  'and  were  not  Tomkins  and  Challoner  hanged, 
Doctor?' 

'Yes,  my  young  friend,'  answered  the  Doctor,  gravely, 
*as  many  others  have  been  with  whom  I  have  acted;  but 
only  because  they  did  not  follow  my  advice  impUcitly. 
You  never  heard  that  I  was  hanged  myself.' 

'The  time  may  come.  Doctor,'  said  Albert.  'The 
pitcher  goes  oft  to  the  well  —  The  proverb,  as  my  father 
would  say,  is  somewhat  musty.  But  I,  too,  have  some 
confidence  in  my  own  judgment;  and,  much  as  I  honour 
the  church,  I  cannot  altogether  subscribe  to  passive 
obedience.  I  will  tell  you  in  one  word  what  points  I  must 
have  explanation  on;  and  it  will  remain  with  you  to  give 
it,  or  to  return  a  message  to  the  King  that  you  will  not 
explain  your  plan;  in  which  case,  if  he  acts  by  my  ad- 
vice, he  will  leave  Woodstock,  and  resume  his  purpose 
of  getting  to  the  coast  without  delay.' 

'Well,  then,'  said  the  Doctor,  'thou  suspicious  mon- 
ster, make  thy  demands,  and,  if  they  be  such  as  I  can 

74 


WOODSTOCK 

answer  without  betraying  confidence,  I  will  reply  to 
them.' 

'In  the  first  place,  then,  what  is  all  this  story  about 
ghosts,  and  witchcrafts,  and  apparitions;  and  do  you 
consider  it  as  safe  for  his  Majesty  to  stay  in  a  house 
subject  to  such  visitations,  real  or  pretended?' 

'You  must  be  satisfied  with  my  answer  in  verho  sa- 
cerdotis:  the  circumstances  you  allude  to  will  not  give 
the  least  annoyance  to  Woodstock  during  the  King's 
residence.  I  cannot  explain  further;  but  for  this  I  will  be 
bound,  at  the  risk  of  my  neck.' 

'Then,'  said  Lee,  'we  must  take  Dr.  Rochecliffe's  bail 
that  the  De\'il  wall  keep  the  peace  towards  our  Sovereign 
Lord  the  King  —  good.  Now  there  lurked  about  this 
house  the  greater  part  of  yesterday,  and  perhaps  slept 
here,  a  fellow  called  Tomkins  —  a  bitter  Independent, 
and  a  secretary,  or  clerk,  or  something  or  other,  to  the 
regicide  dog  Desborough.  The  man  is  well  known  —  a 
wild  ranter  in  religious  opinions,  but  in  private  affairs 
far-sighted,  cunning,  and  interested  even  as  any  rogue 
of  them  all.' 

'Be  assured  we  will  avail  ourselves  of  his  crazy  fanati- 
cism to  mislead  his  wicked  cunning :  a  child  may  lead  a 
hog  if  it  has  wit  to  fasten  a  cord  to  the  ring  in  its  nose,' 
replied  the  Doctor. 

'  You  may  be  deceived,'  said  Albert ; '  the  age  has  many 
such  as  this  fellow,  whose  views  of  the  spiritual  and  tem- 
poral world  are  so  different,  that  they  resemble  the  eyes 
of  a  squinting  man  —  one  of  which,  oblique  and  distorted, 
sees  nothing  but  the  end  of  his  nose,  while  the  other, 
instead  of  partaking  the  sam.e  defect,  views  strongly, 
sharply,  and  acutelywhateveris  subjected  to  its  scrutiny/ 

75 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

*But  we  will  put  a  patch  on  the  better  eye/  said  the 
Doctor,  'and  he  shall  only  be  allowed  to  speculate  with 
the  imperfect  optic.  You  must  know,  this  fellow  has 
always  seen  the  greatest  number  and  the  most  hideous 
apparitions;  he  has  not  the  courage  of  a  cat  in  such  mat- 
ters, though  stout  enough  when  he  hath  temporal  antag- 
onists before  him.  I  have  placed  him  under  the  charge  of 
Joceline  Joliffe,  who,  betwixt  plying  him  with  sack  and 
ghost-stories,  would  make  him  incapable  of  knowing 
what  was  done,  if  you  were  to  proclaim  the  King  in  his 
presence.' 

'But  why  keep  such  a  fellow  here  at  all?' 

*0h,  sir,  content  you;  he  lies  leaguer,  as  a  sort  of 
ambassador  for  his  worthy  masters,  and  we  are  secure 
from  any  intrusion  so  long  as  they  get  all  the  news  of 
Woodstock  from  Trusty  Tomkins.' 

*I  know  Joceline's  honesty  well,'  said  Albert;  'and  if 
he  can  assure  me  that  he  will  keep  a  watch  over  this  fel- 
low, I  will  so  far  trust  in  him.  He  does  not  know  the 
depth  of  the  stake,  't  is  true,  but  that  my  life  is  con- 
cerned will  be  quite  enough  to  keep  him  vigilant.  Well, 
then,  I  proceed.  What  if  Markham  Everard  comes 
down  on  us? ' 

'We  have  his  word  to  the  contrary,'  answered  Roche- 
cliff  e  —  '  his  word  of  honour  transmitted  by  his  friend. 
Do  you  think  it  likely  he  will  break  it? ' 

'I  hold  him  incapable  of  doing  so,'  answered  Albert; 
'and,  besides,  I  think  Markham  would  make  no  bad  use 
of  anything  which  might  come  to  his  knowledge.  Yet 
God  forbid  we  should  be  under  the  necessity  of  trusting 
any  who  ever  wore  the  ParKament's  colours  in  a  matter 
of  such  dear  concernment!' 

76 


WOODSTOCK 

*Amen!'  said  the  Doctor.  'Are  your  doubts  silenced 
now?' 

*I  still  have  an  objection/  said  Albert,  'to  yonder 
impudent  rakehelly  fellow,  styling  himself  a  Cavalier, 
who  pushed  himself  on  our  company  last  night,  and 
gained  my  father's  heart  by  a  story  of  the  storm  of 
Brentford,  which  I  dare  say  the  rogue  never  saw.' 

*You  mistake  him,  dear  Albert,'  replied  Rochecliffe: 
'Roger  Wildrake,  although  till  of  late  I  only  knew  him 
by  name,  is  a  gentleman,  was  bred  at  the  Inns  of  Court, 
and  spent  his  estate  in  the  King's  service.' 

'Or  rather  in  the  devil's  service,'  said  Albert.  'It  is 
such  fellows  as  he,  who,  sunk  from  the  license  of  their 
mihtary  habits  into  idle  bebauched  ruffians,  infest  the 
land  with  riots  and  robberies,  brawl  in  hedge  alehouses 
and  cellars  where  strong  waters  are  sold  at  midnight, 
and,  with  their  deep  oaths,  their  hot  loyalty,  and  their 
drunken  valour,  make  decent  men  abominate  the  very 
name  of  Cavaher.' 

'Alas!'  said  the  Doctor,  'it  is  but  too  true;  but  what 
can  you  expect?  When  the  higher  and  more  quahfied 
classes  are  broken  down  and  mingled  undistinguishably 
with  the  lower  orders,  they  are  apt  to  lose  the  most  valu- 
able  marks  of  their  quality  in  the  general  confusion  of 
morals  and  manners,  just  as  a  handful  of  silver  medals 
will  become  defaced  and  discoloured  if  jumbled  about 
among  the  vulgar  copper  coin.  Even  the  prime  medal  of 
all,  which  we  Royalists  would  so  willingly  wear  next 
our  very  hearts,  has  not,  perhaps,  entirely  escaped  some 
deterioration.  But  let  other  tongues  than  mine  speak  on 
that  subject.' 

Albert  Lee  paused  deeply  after  having  heard  these 

77 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

communications  on  the  part  of  Rochecliffe.  'Doctor/  he 
said,  'it  is  generally  agreed,  even  by  some  who  think 
you  may  occasionally  have  been  a  Httle  over-busy  in 
putting  men  upon  dangerous  actions  — ' 

'May  God  forgive  them  who  entertain  so  false  an 
opinion  of  me ! '  said  the  Doctor. 

—  'That,  nevertheless,  you  have  done  and  suffered 
more  in  the  King's  behalf  than  any  man  of  your  func- 
tion.' 

'They  do  me  but  justice  there,'  said  Dr.  RochecHffe  — 
'absolute  justice.' 

'  I  am  therefore  disposed  to  abide  by  your  opinion,  if, 
all  things  considered,  you  think  it  safe  that  we  should 
remain  at  Woodstock.' 

'That  is  not  the  question,'  answered  the  divine. 

'And  what  is  the  question,  then?'  replied  the  young 
soldier. 

'Whether  any  safer  course  can  be  pointed  out.  I 
grieve  to  say  that  the  question  must  be  comparative  as 
to  the  point  of  option.  Absolute  safety  is  —  alas  the 
while!  —  out  of  the  question  on  all  sides.  Now,  I  say 
Woodstock  is,  fenced  and  guarded  as  at  present,  by  far 
the  most  preferable  place  of  concealment.' 

'Enough,'  replied  Albert,  'I  give  up  to  you  the  ques- 
tion, as  to  a  person  whose  knowledge  of  such  important 
ajffairs,  not  to  mention  your  age  and  experience,  is  more 
intimate  and  extensive  than  mine  can  be.' 

'You  do  well,'  answered  RochecHffe;  'and  if  others 
had  acted  with  the  Hke  distrust  of  their  own  knowledge, 
and  confidence  in  competent  persons,  it  had  been  better 
for  the  age.  This  makes  understanding  bar  himself  up 
within  his  fortaHce,  and  wit  betake  himself  to  his  high 

78 


WOODSTOCK 

tower.  (Here  he  looked  around  his  cell  with  an  air  of 
self-complacence.)  The  wise  man  foreseeth  the  tempest, 
and  hideth  himself.' 

'Doctor,'  said  Albert,  'let  our  foresight  serve  others 
far  more  precious  than  either  of  us.  Let  me  ask  you,  if 
you  have  well  considered  whether  our  precious  charge 
should  remain  in  society  with  the  family,  or  betake  him- 
self to  some  of  the  more  hidden  corners  of  the  house?' 

'  Hum ! '  said  the  Doctor,  with  an  air  of  deep  reflection, 
'I  think  he  will  be  safest  as  Louis  Kerneguy,  keeping 
himself  close  beside  you  — ' 

'I  fear  it  will  be  necessary,'  added  Albert,  'that  I 
scout  abroad  a  Httle,  and  show  myself  in  some  distant 
part  of  the  country,  lest,  coming  here  in  quest  of  me,  they 
should  find  higher  game.' 

'Pray  do  not  interrupt  me.  Keeping  himself  close 
beside  you  or  your  father,  in  or  near  to  Victor  Lee's 
apartment,  from  which,  you  are  aware,  he  can  make  a 
ready  escape,  should  danger  approach.  This  occurs  to 
me  as  best  for  the  present;  I  hope  to  hear  of  the  vessel 
to-day  —  to-morrow  at  farthest.' 

Albert  Lee  bid  the  active  but  opinionated  man  good- 
morrow;  admiring  how  this  species  of  intrigue  had  be- 
come a  sort  of  element  in  which  the  Doctor  seemed  to 
enjoy  himself,  notwithstanding  all  that  the  poet  has  said 
concerning  the  horrors  which  intervene  betwixt  the  con- 
ception and  execution  of  a  conspiracy. 

In  returning  from  Dr.  Rochecliffe's  sanctuary,  he  met 
with  JoceHne,  who  was  anxiously  seeking  him.  'The 
young  Scotch  gentleman,'  he  said,  in  a  mysterious  man- 
ner, 'has  arisen  from  bed,  and,  hearing  me  pass,  he 
called  me  into  his  apartment.' 

79 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'Well,'  replied  Albert,  'I  will  see  him  presently.' 

'And  he  asked  me  for  fresh  linen  and  clothes.  Now, 
sir,  he  is  like  a  man  who  is  quite  accustomed  to  be 
obeyed,  so  I  gave  him  a  suit  which  happened  to  be  in  a 
wardrobe  in  the  west  tower,  and  some  of  your  linen  to 
conform;  and  when  he  was  dressed,  he  commanded  me 
to  show  him  to  the  presence  of  Sir  Henry  Lee  and  my 
young  lady.  I  would  have  said  something,  sir,  about 
waiting  till  you  came  back,  but  he  pulled  me  good- 
naturedly  by  the  hair  —  as,  indeed,  he  has  a  rare  hu- 
mour of  his  own  —  and  told  me,  he  was  guest  to  Master 
Albert  Lee,  and  not  his  prisoner;  so,  sir,  though  I  thought 
you  might  be  displeased  with  me  for  giving  him  the 
means  of  stirring  abroad,  and  perhaps  being  seen  by 
those  who  should  not  see  him,  what  could  I  say? ' 

'You  are  a  sensible  fellow,  Joceline,  and  comprehend 
always  what  is  recommended  to  you.  This  youth  will 
not  be  controlled,  I  fear,  by  either  of  us;  but  we  must 
look  the  closer  after  his  safety.  You  keep  your  watch 
over  that  prjang  fellow  the  steward?' 

'  Trust  him  to  my  care :  on  that  side  have  no  fear.  But, 
ah,  sir!  I  would  we  had  the  young  Scot  in  his  old  clothes 
again,  for  the  riding-suit  of  yours  which  he  now  wears 
hath  set  him  off  in  other-guess  fashion.' 

From  the  manner  in  which  the  faithful  dependant  ex- 
pressed himself,  Albert  saw  that  he  suspected  who  the 
Scottish  page  in  reality  was;  yet  he  did  not  think  it 
proper  to  acknowledge  to  him  a  fact  of  such  importance, 
secure  as  he  was  equally  of  his  fidelity  whether  explicitly 
trusted  to  the  full  extent  or  left  to  his  own  conjectures. 
Full  of  anxious  thought,  he  went  to  the  apartment  of 
Victor  Lee,  in  which  Joliffe  told  him  he  would  find  the 

80 


WOODSTOCK 

party  assembled.  The  sound  of  laughter,  as  he  laid  his 
hand  on  the  lock  of  the  door,  almost  made  him  start,  so 
singularly  did  it  jar  with  the  doubtful  and  melancholy 
reflections  which  engaged  his  own  mind.  He  entered, 
and  found  his  father  in  high  good-humour,  laughing 
and  conversing  freely  with  his  young  charge,  whose  ap- 
pearance was,  indeed,  so  much  changed  to  the  better  in 
externals,  that  it  seemed  scarce  possible  a  night's  rest,  a 
toilet,  and  a  suit  of  decent  clothes  could  have  done 
so  much  in  his  favour  in  so  short  a  time.  It  could  not, 
however,  be  imputed  to  the  mere  alteration  of  dress, 
although  that,  no  doubt,  had  its  effect.  There  was  no- 
thing splendid  in  that  which  Louis  Kemeguy  (we  con- 
tinue to  call  him  by  his  assumed  name)  now  wore.  It 
was  merely  a  riding-suit  of  grey  cloth,  with  some  silver 
lace,  in  the  fashion  of  a  country  gentleman  of  the  time. 
But  it  happened  to  fit  him  very  well,  and  to  become  his 
very  dark  complexion,  especially  as  he  now  held  up  his 
head,  and  used  the  manners,  not  only  of  a  well-behaved, 
but  of  a  highly  accomplished,  gentleman.  When  he 
moved,  his  clumsy  and  awkward  limp  was  exchanged 
for  a  sort  of  shuffle,  which,  as  it  might  be  the  consequence 
of  a  wound  in  those  perilous  times,  had  rather  an  inter- 
esting than  an  ungainly  effect.  At  least  it  was  as  genteel 
an  expression  that  the  party  had  been  over-hard  trav- 
elled as  the  most  polite  pedestrian  could  propose  to 
himself. 

The  features  of  the  wanderer  were  harsh  as  ever,  but 
his  red  shock  peruke,  for  such  it  proved,  was  laid  aside, 
his  sable  elf-locks  were  trained,  by  a  little  of  Joceline's 
assistance,  into  curls,  and  his  fine  black  eyes  shone  from 
among  the  shade  of  these  curls,  and  corresponded  with 
88  8i 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

the  animated,  though  not  handsome,  character  of  the 
whole  head.  In  his  conversation,  he  had  laid  aside  all 
the  coarseness  of  dialect  which  he  had  so  strongly  af- 
fected on  the  preceding  evening;  and  although  he  con- 
tinued to  speak  a  little  Scotch,  for  the  support  of  his 
character  as  a  young  gentleman  of  that  nation,  yet  it 
was  not  in  a  degree  which  rendered  his  speech  either 
uncouth  or  unintelligible,  but  merely  afforded  a  certain 
Doric  tinge  essential  to  the  personage  he  represented. 
No  person  on  earth  could  better  understand  the  society 
in  which  he  moved ;  exile  had  made  him  acquainted  with 
life  in  all  its  shades  and  varieties;  his  spirits,  if  not  uni- 
form, were  elastic;  he  had  that  species  of  epicurean  phil- 
osophy which,  even  in  the  most  extreme  difhculties  and 
dangers,  can  in  an  interval  of  ease,  however  brief,  avail 
itself  of  the  enjoyments  of  the  moment;  he  was,  in 
short,  in  youth  and  misfortune,  as  afterwards  in  his 
regal  condition,  a  good-humoured  but  hard-hearted 
voluptuary  —  wise,  save  where  his  passions  intervened; 
beneficent,  save  when  prodigality  had  deprived  him  of 
the  means,  or  prejudice  of  the  wish,  to  confer  benefits; 
his  faults  such  as  might  often  have  drawn  down  hatred, 
but  that  they  were  mingled  with  so  much  urbanity  that 
the  injured  person  felt  it  impossible  to  retain  the  full 
sense  of  his  wrongs. 

Albert  Lee  found  the  party,  consisting  of  his  father, 
sister,  and  the  supposed  page,  seated  by  the  breakfast- 
table,  at  which  he  also  took  his  place.  He  was  a  pensive 
and  anxious  beholder  of  what  passed,  while  the  page, 
who  had  already  completely  gained  the  heart  of  the 
good  old  Cavalier  by  mimicking  the  manner  in  which 
the  Scottish  divines  preached  in  favour  of  'Ma  gude 

82 


WOODSTOCK 

Lord  Marquis  of  Argyle  and  the  Solemn  League  and 
Covenant,'  was  now  endeavouring  to  interest  the  fair 
Alice  by  such  anecdotes,  partly  of  warlike  and  perilous 
adventure,  as  possessed  the  same  degree  of  interest  for 
the  female  ear  which  they  have  had  ever  since  Desde- 
mona's  days.  But  it  was  not  only  of  dangers  by  land 
and  sea  that  the  disguised  page  spoke;  but  much  more, 
and  much  oftener,  on  foreign  revels,  banquets,  balls, 
where  the  pride  of  France,  of  Spain,  or  of  the  Low  Coun- 
tries was  exhibited  in  the  eyes  of  their  most  eminent 
beauties.  Alice  being  a  very  young  girl,  who,  in  con- 
sequence of  the  Civil  War,  had  been  almost  entirely 
educated  in  the  country,  and  often  in  great  seclusion,  it 
was  certainly  no  wonder  that  she  should  listen  with 
willing  ears  and  a  ready  smile  to  what  the  young  gentle- 
man, their  guest,  and  her  brother's  protege,  told  with  so 
much  gaiety,  and  mingled  with  such  a  shade  of  danger- 
ous adventure,  and  occasionally  of  serious  reflection,  as 
prevented  the  discourse  from  being  regarded  as  merely 
light  and  frivolous. 

In  a  word,  Sir  Henry  Lee  laughed,  Alice  smiled  from 
time  to  time,  and  all  were  satisfied  but  Albert,  who 
would  himself,  however,  have  been  scarce  able  to  allege 
a  sufficient  reason  for  his  depression  of  spirits. 

The  materials  of  breakfast  were  at  last  removed,  imder 
the  active  superintendence  of  the  neat-handed  Phoebe, 
who  looked  over  her  shoulder,  and  lingered  more  than 
once,  to  listen  to  the  fluent  discourse  of  their  new  guest, 
whom,  on  the  preceding  evening,  she  had,  while  in  at- 
tendance at  supper,  accounted  one  of  the  most  stupid 
inmates  to  whom  the  gates  of  Woodstock  had  been 
opened  since  the  times  of  Fair  Rosamond. 

83 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Louis  Kerneguy,  then,  when  they  were  left  only  four 
in  the  chamber,  without  the  interruption  of  domestics, 
and  the  successive  bustle  occasioned  by  the  discussion 
and  removal  of  the  morning  meal,  became  apparently 
sensible  that  his  friend  and  ostensible  patron  Albert 
ought  not  altogether  to  be  suffered  to  drop  to  leeward 
in  the  conversation,  while  he  was  himself  successfully 
engaging  the  attention  of  those  members  of  his  family 
to  whom  he  had  become  so  recently  known.  He  went 
behind  his  chair,  therefore,  and,  leaning  on  the  back, 
said  with  a  good-humoured  tone,  which  made  his  pur- 
pose entirely  intelligible  :  — 

'Either  my  good  friend,  guide,  and  patron  has  heard 
worse  news  this  morning  than  he  cares  to  tell  us,  or  he 
must  have  stumbled  over  my  tattered  jerkin  and  leath- 
ern hose,  and  acquired,  by  contact,  the  whole  mass  of 
stupidity  which  I  threw  off  last  night  with  those  most 
dolorous  garments.  Cheer  up,  my  dear  Colonel  Albert, 
if  your  affectionate  page  may  presume  to  say  so:  you 
are  in  company  with  those  whose  society,  dear  to  stran- 
gers, must  be  doubly  so  to  you.  Odds-fish,  man,  cheer 
up !  I  have  seen  you  gay  on  a  biscuit  and  a  mouthful  of 
water-cresses;  don't  let  your  heart  fail  you  on  Rhenish 
wine  and  venison.' 

'Dear  Louis,'  said  Albert,  rousing  himself  into  exer- 
tion, and  somewhat  ashamed  of  his  own  silence, '  I  have 
slept  worse,  and  been  astir  earlier  than  you.' 

'Be  it  so,'  said  his  father;  'yet  I  hold  it  no  good  ex- 
cuse for  your  sullen  silence.  Albert,  you  have  met  your 
sister  and  me,  so  long  separated  from  you,  so  anxious  on 
your  behalf,  almost  like  mere  strangers,  and  yet  you  are 
returned  safe  to  us,  and  you  find  us  well.' 

84 


WOODSTOCK 

*  Returned  indeed  —  but  for  safety,  my  dear  father, 
that  word  must  be  a  stranger  to  us  Worcester  folk  for 
some  time.  However,  it  is  not  my  own  safety  about 
which  I  am  anxious.' 

'About  whose,  then,  should  you  be  anxious?  All  ac- 
counts agree  that  the  King  is  safe  out  of  the  dogs'  jaws.' 

*Not  without  some  danger,  though,'  muttered  Louis, 
thinking  of  his  encounter  with  Bevis  on  the  preceding 
evening. 

'No,  not  without  danger,  indeed,'  echoed  the  knight; 

'but,  as  old  Will  says  — 

There 's  such  divinity  doth  hedge  a  king, 
That  treason  dares  not  peep  at  what  it  would. 

No  —  no,  thank  God,  that's  cared  for:  our  hope  and  for- 
tune is  escaped,  so  all  news  afBrm  —  escaped  from  Bris- 
tol; if  I  thought  otherwise,  Albert,  I  should  be  as  sad  as 
you  are.  For  the  rest  of  it,  I  have  lurked  a  month  in 
this  house  when  discovery  would  have  been  death,  and 
that  is  no  longer  since  than  after  Lord  Holland  and  the 
Duke  of  Buckingham's  rising  at  Kingston;  and  hang 
me,  if  I  thought  once  of  twisting  my  brow  into  such  a 
tragic  fold  as  yours,  but  cocked  my  hat  at  misfortune 
as  a  Cavalier  should.' 

*If  I  might  put  in  a  word,'  said  Louis,  *it  would  be  to 
assure  Colonel  Albert  Lee  that  I  verily  believe  the  King 
would  thinlc  his  own  hap,  wherever  he  may  be,  much  the 
worse  that  his  best  subjects  were  seized  with  dejection 
on  his  account.' 

'You  answer  boldly  on  the  King's  part,  young  man,' 
said  Sir  Henry. 

*0h,  my  father  was  meikle  about  the  King's  hand,' 
answered  Louis,  recollecting  his  present  character. 

8S 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

*No  wonder,  then/  said  Sir  Henry,  'that  you  have  so 
soon  recovered  your  good  spirits  and  good  breeding, 
when  you  heard  of  his  Majesty's  escape.  Why,  you  are 
no  more  like  the  lad  we  saw  last  night  than  the  best 
hunter  I  ever  had  was  Kke  a  dray-horse.' 

'Oh,  there  is  much  in  rest,  and  food,  and  grooming,' 
answered  Louis.  '  You  would  hardly  know  the  tired  jade 
you  dismounted  from  last  night,  when  she  is  brought  out 
prancing  and  neighing  the  next  morning,  rested,  re- 
freshed, and  ready  to  start  again,  especially  if  the  brute 
hath  some  good  blood,  for  such  pick  up  unco  fast.' 

'Well,  then,  but  since  thy  father  was  a  courtier,  and 
thou  hast  learned,  I  think,  something  of  the  trade,  tell 
us  a  little.  Master  Kerneguy,  about  him  we  love  most  to 
hear  about  —  the  King;  we  are  all  safe  and  secret,  you 
need  not  be  afraid.  He  was  a  hopeful  youth;  I  trust  his 
flourishing  blossom  now  gives  promise  of  fruit? ' 

As  the  knight  spoke,  Louis  bent  his  eyes  on  the 
ground,  and  seemed  at  first  uncertain  what  to  answer. 
But,  admirable  at  extricating  himself  from  such  dilem- 
mas, he  replied,  'That  he  really  could  not  presume  to 
speak  on  such  a  subject  in  the  presence  of  his  patron, 
Colonel  Albert  Lee,  who  must  be  a  much  better  judge 
of  the  character  of  King  Charles  than  he  could  pretend 
to  be.' 

Albert  was  accordingly  next  assailed  by  the  knight, 
seconded  by  Alice,  for  some  account  of  his  Majesty's 
character. 

'I  will  speak  but  according  to  facts,'  said  Albert;  'and 
then  I  must  be  acquitted  of  partiality.  If  the  King  had 
not  possessed  enterprise  and  military  skill,  he  never 
would  have  attempted  the  expedition  to  Worcester;  had 

86 


WOODSTOCK 

he  not  had  personal  courage,  he  had  not  so  long  disputed 
the  battle  that  Cromwell  almost  judged  it  lost.  That  he 
possesses  prudence  and  patience  must  be  argued  from 
the  circumstances  attending  his  flight;  and  that  he  has 
the  love  of  his  subjects  is  evident,  since,  necessarily 
known  to  many,  he  has  been  betrayed  by  none.' 

'For  shame,  Albert! '  replied  his  sister;  *is  that  the  way 
a  good  Cavalier  doles  out  the  character  of  his  prince, 
applying  an  instance  at  every  concession,  Uke  a  pedlar 
measuring  linen  with  his  rod?  Out  upon  you !  no  wonder 
you  were  beaten,  if  you  fought  as  coldly  for  your  King 
as  you  now  talk  for  him.' 

*I  did  my  best  to  trace  a  hkeness  from  what  I  have 
seen  and  known  of  the  original,  sister  Alice,'  replied  her 
brother.  '  If  you  would  have  a  fancy  portrait,  you  must 
get  an  artist  of  more  imagination  than  I  have  to  draw 
it  for  you.' 

*I  will  be  that  artist  myself,'  said  Alice,  'and,  in  my 
portrait,  our  monarch  shall  show  all  that  he  ought  to  be, 
having  such  high  pretensions;  all  that  he  must  be,  being 
so  loftily  descended;  all  that  I  am  sure  he  is,  and  that 
every  loyal  heart  in  the  kingdom  ought  to  believe 
him.' 

'Well  said,  Alice,'  quoth  the  old  knight.  'Look  thou 
upon  this  picture,  and  on  this !  Here  is  our  young  friend 
shall  judge.  I  wager  my  best  nag  —  that  is,  I  would 
wager  him  had  I  one  left —  that  Alice  proves  the  better 
painter  of  the  two.  My  son's  brain  is  still  misty,  I  think, 
since  his  defeat :  he  has  not  got  the  smoke  of  Worcester 
out  of  it.  Plague  on  thee!  a  young  man,  and  cast  down 
for  one  beating!  Had  you  been  banged  twenty  times 
like  me,  it  had  been  time  to  look  grave.  But  come,  Alice, 

87 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

forward;  the  colours  are  mixed  on  your  pallet  —  for- 
ward with  something  that  shall  show  like  one  of  Van- 
dyck's  living  portraits,  placed  beside  the  dull  dry  pre- 
sentation there  of  our  ancestor  Victor  Lee.' 

Alice,  it  must  be  observed,  had  been  educated  by  her 
father  in  the  notions  of  high,  and  even  exaggerated,  loy- 
alty which  characterised  the  Cavaliers,  and  she  was 
really  an  enthusiast  in  the  Royal  cause.  But  besides, 
she  was  in  good  spirits  at  her  brother's  happy  return, 
and  wished  to  prolong  the  gay  humour  in  which  her 
father  had  of  late  scarcely  ever  indulged. 

'Well,  then,'  she  said, '  though  I  am  no  Apelles,  I  will 
try  to  paint  an  Alexander,  such  as  I  hope,  and  am  de- 
termined to  believe,  exists  in  the  person  of  our  exiled 
sovereign,  soon  I  trust  to  be  restored.  And  I  will  not  go 
farther  than  his  own  family.  He  shall  have  all  the  chiv- 
alrous courage,  all  the  warlike  skill,  of  Henry  of  France, 
his  grandfather,  in  order  to  place  him  on  the  throne;  all 
his  benevolence,  love  of  his  people,  patience  even  of  un- 
pleasing  advice,  sacrifice  of  his  own  wishes  and  pleasures 
to  the  commonweal,  that,  seated  there,  he  may  be  blest 
while  living,  and  so  long  remembered  when  dead,  that 
for  ages  after  it  shall  be  thought  sacrilege  to  breathe  an 
aspersion  against  the  throne  which  he  has  occupied. 
Long  after  he  is  dead,  while  there  remains  an  old  man 
who  has  seen  him,  were  the  condition  of  that  survivor 
no  higher  than  a  groom  or  a  menial,  his  age  shall  be 
provided  for  at  the  public  charge,  and  his  grey  hairs 
regarded  with  more  distinction  than  an  earl's  coronet, 
because  he  remembers  the  second  Charles,  the  monarch 
of  every  heart  in  England.' 

While  Alice  spoke,  she  was  hardly  conscious  of  the 

88 


WOODSTOCK 

presence  of  any  one  save  her  father  and  brother;  for  the 
page  withdrew  himself  somewhat  from  the  circle,  and 
there  was  nothing  to  remind  her  of  him.  She  gave  the 
reins,  therefore,  to  her  enthusiasm,  and  as  the  tears  glit- 
tered in  her  eye,  and  her  beautiful  features  became  ani- 
mated, she  seemed  Hke  a  descended  cherub  proclaiming 
the  virtues  of  a  patriot  monarch.  The  person  chiefly  in- 
terested in  her  description  held  himself  back,  as  we  have 
said,  and  concealed  his  own  features,  yet  so  as  to  pre- 
serve a  full  view  of  the  beautiful  speaker. 

Albert  Lee,  conscious  in  whose  presence  this  eulogium 
was  pronounced,  was  much  embarrassed;  but  his  father, 
all  whose  feelings  were  flattered  by  the  panegyric,  was 
in  rapture. 

'So  much  for  the  kijtg,  Alice,'  he  said;  'and  now  for 
the  man.' 

'For  the  man,'  replied  Alice  in  the  same  tone,  'need  I 
wish  him  more  than  the  paternal  virtues  of  his  unhappy 
father,  of  whom  his  worst  enemies  have  recorded,  that, 
if  moral  virtues  and  religious  faith  were  to  be  selected 
as  the  qualities  which  merited  a  crown,  no  man  could 
plead  the  possession  of  them  in  a  higher  or  more  indis- 
putable degree.  Temperate,  wise,  and  frugal,  yet  muni- 
ficent in  rewarding  merit  —  a  friend  to  letters  and  the 
muses,  but  a  severe  discourager  of  the  misuse  of  such 
gifts  —  a  worthy  gentleman  —  a  kind  master  —  the 
best  friend,  the  best  father,  the  best  Christian  — '  Her 
voice  began  to  falter,  and  her  father's  handkerchief  was 
already  to  his  eyes. 

'He  was,  girl  —  he  was!'  exclaimed  Sir  Henry;  'but 
no  more  on't,  I  charge  ye  —  no  more  on't  —  enough;  let 
his  son  but  possess  his  virtues,  with  better  advisers,  and 

89 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

better  fortunes,  and  he  will  be  all  that  England,  in  her 
warmest  wishes,  could  desire,' 

There  was  a  pause  after  this;  for  Alice  felt  as  if  she  had 
spoken  too  frankly  and  too  zealously  for  her  sex  and 
youth;  Sir  Henry  was  occupied  in  melancholy  recollec- 
tions on  the  fate  of  his  late  sovereign;  while  Kerneguy 
and  his  supposed  patron  felt  embarrassed,  perhaps  from 
a  consciousness  that  the  real  Charles  fell  far  short  of  his 
ideal  character,  as  designed  in  such  glowing  colours.  In 
some  cases,  exaggerated  or  unappropriate  praise  becomes 
the  most  severe  satire. 

But  such  reflections  were  not  of  a  nature  to  be  long 
willingly  cherished  by  the  person  to  whom  they  might 
have  been  of  great  advantage.  He  assumed  a  tone  of 
raillery,  which  is,  perhaps,  the  readiest  mode  of  escaping 
from  the  feelings  of  self-reproof.  'Every  Cavalier,'  he 
said,  'should  bend  his  knee  to  thank  Mistress  Alice  Lee 
for  having  made  such  a  flattering  portrait  of  the  King 
their  master,  by  laying  under  contribution  for  his  benefit 
the  virtues  of  all  his  ancestors ;  only  there  was  one  point 
he  would  not  have  expected  a  female  painter  to  have 
passed  over  in  silence.  When  she  made  him,  in  right  of 
his  grandfather  and  father,  a  muster  of  royal  and  indi- 
vidual excellences,  why  could  she  not  have  endowed  him 
at  the  same  time  with  his  mother's  personal  charms? 
Why  should  not  the  son  of  Henrietta  Maria,  the  finest 
woman  of  her  day,  add  the  recommendations  of  a  hand- 
some face  and  figure  to  his  internal  qualities?  He  had 
the  same  hereditary  title  to  good  looks  as  to  mental 
qualifications;  and  the  picture,  with  such  an  addition, 
would  be  perfect  in  its  way,  and  God  send  it  might  be  a 
resemblance!' 

90 


WOODSTOCK 

'I  understand  you,  Master  Kemeguy,'  said  Alice, 
*but  I  am  no  fairy,  to  bestow,  as  those  do  in  the  nursery 
tales,  gifts  which  Providence  has  denied.  I  am  woman 
enough  to  have  made  inquiries  on  the  subject,  and  I 
know  the  general  report  is  that  the  King,  to  have  been 
the  son  of  such  handsome  parents,  is  unusually  hard- 
favoured.' 

'Good  God,  sister!'  said  Albert,  starting  impatiently 
from  his  seat. 

'Why,  you  yourself  told  me  so,'  said  Alice,  surprised 
at  the  emotion  he  testified;  'and  you  said  — ' 

'This  is  intolerable,'  muttered  Albert;  'I  must  out  to 
speak  with  Joceline  without  delay.  Louis  (with  an  im- 
ploring look  to  Kerneguy),  you  will  surely  come  with 
me?' 

*I  would  with  all  my  heart,'  said  Kerneguy,  smiling 
maliciously ; '  but  you  see  how  I  suffer  still  from  lameness. 
Nay  —  nay,  Albert,'  he  whispered,  resisting  young  Lee's 
attempt  to  prevail  on  him  to  leave  the  room,  'can  you 
suppose  I  am  fool  enough  to  be  hurt  by  this?  On  the 
contrary,  I  have  a  desire  of  profiting  by  it.' 
f  '  May  God  grant  it ! '  said  Lee  to  himself,  as  he  left  the 
room, 'it  will  be  the  first  lecture  you  ever  profited  by; 
and  the  Devil  confound  the  plots  and  plotters  who  made 
me  bring  you  to  this  place!'  So  saying,  he  carried  his 
discontent  forth  into  the  park. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 


For  there,  they  say,  he  daily  doth  frequent, 
With  unrestrained  loose  companions;  .  .  . 
Which  he,  young  wanton  and  effeminate  boy, 
Takes  on  the  point  of  honour  to  support 
So  dissolute  a  crew. 

Richard  II. 


The  conversation  which  Albert  had  in  vain  endeavoured 
to  interrupt  flowed  on  in  the  same  course  after  he  had 
left  the  room.  It  entertained  Louis  Kerneguy;  for  per- 
sonal vanity,  or  an  over-sensitiveness  to  deserved  re- 
proof, were  not  among  the  faults  of  his  character,  and 
were  indeed  incompatible  with  an  understanding  which, 
combined  with  more  strength  of  principle,  steadiness,  of 
exertion,  and  self-denial,  might  have  placed  Charles 
high  on  the  list  of  English  monarchs.  On  the  other  hand, 
Sir  Henry  Ustened  with  natural  delight  to  the  noble 
sentiments  uttered  by  a  being  so  beloved  as  his  daugh- 
ter. His  own  parts  were  rather  steady  than  brilliant; 
and  he  had  that  species  of  imagination  which  is  not  easily 
excited  without  the  action  of  another,  as  the  electrical 
globe  only  scintillates  when  rubbed  against  its  cushion. 
He  was  well  pleased,  therefore,  when  Kerneguy  pursued 
the  conversation,  by  observing  that  Mistress  Alice  Lee 
had  not  explained  how  the  same  good  fairy  that  con- 
ferred moral  qualities  could  not  also  remove  corporeal 
blemishes. 

'You  mistake,  sir,'  said  Alice,  *I  confer  nothing.  I  do 
but  attempt  to  paint  our  King  such  as  I  hope  he  is,  such 
as  I  am  sure  he  may  be,  should  he  himself  desire  to  be  so. 

92 


WOODSTOCK 

The  same  general  report,  which  speaks  of  his  counten- 
ance as  unprepossessing,  describes  his  talents  as  being  of 
the  first  order.  He  has,  therefore,  the  means  of  arriving 
at  excellence,  should  he  cultivate  them  sedulously  and 
employ  them  usefully  —  should  he  rule  his  passions  and 
be  guided  by  his  understanding.  Every  good  man  can- 
not be  wise ;  but  it  is  in  the  power  of  every  wise  man,  if 
he  pleases,  to  be  as  eminent  for  virtue  as  for  talent. 

Young  Kerneguy  rose  briskly  and  took  a  turn  through 
the  room ;  and  ere  the  knight  could  make  any  observa- 
tion on  the  singular  vivacity  in  which  he  had  indulged, 
he  threw  himself  again  into  his  chair,  and  said,  in  rather 
an  altered  tone  of  voice  —  *  It  seems,  then.  Mistress  Alice 
Lee,  that  the  good  friends  who  have  described  this  poor 
king  to  you  have  been  as  unfavourable  in  their  account 
of  his  morals  as  of  his  person?' 

'The  truth  must  be  better  known  to  you,  sir,'  said 
Alice,  'than  it  can  be  to  me.  Some  rumours  there  have 
been  which  accuse  him  of  a  license  which,  whatever  al- 
lowance flatterers  make  for  it,  does  not,  to  say  the  least, 
become  the  son  of  the  Martyr;  I  shall  be  happy  to  have 
these  contradicted  on  good  authority.' 

*I  am  surprised  at  your  folly,'  said  Sir  Henry  Lee,  'in 
hinting  at  such  things,  Alice:  a  pack  of  scandal,  invented 
by  the  rascals  who  have  usurped  the  government  —  a 
thing  devised  by  the  enemy.' 

'Nay,  sir,'  said  Kerneguy,  laughing,  'we  must  not  let 
our  zeal  charge  the  enemy  with  more  scandal  than  they 
actually  deserve.  Mistress  Alice  has  put  the  question 
to  me.  I  can  only  answer,  that  no  one  can  be  more 
devotedly  attached  to  the  King  than  I  myself;  that  I  am 
very  partial  to  his  merits  and  blind  to  his  defects;  and 

93 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

that,  in  short,  I  would  be  the  last  man  in  the  world  to 
give  up  his  cause  where  it  was  tenable.  Nevertheless,  I 
must  confess  that,  if  all  his  grandfather  of  Navarre's 
morals  have  not  descended  to  him,  this  poor  king  has 
somehow  inherited  a  share  of  the  specks  that  were 
thought  to  dim  the  lustre  of  that  great  prince  —  that 
Charles  is  a  little  soft-hearted  or  so,  where  beauty  is  con- 
cerned. Do  not  blame  him  too  severely,  pretty  Mistress 
Alice;  when  a  man's  hard  fate  has  driven  him  among 
thorns,  it  were  surely  hard  to  prevent  him  from  trifling 
with  the  few  roses  he  may  find  among  them?' 

Ahce,  who  probably  thought  the  conversation  had 
gone  far  enough,  rose  while  Master  Kerneguy  was 
speaking,  and  was  leaving  the  room  before  he  had  fin- 
ished, without  apparently  hearing  the  interrogation  with 
which  he  concluded.  Her  father  approved  of  her  de- 
parture, not  thinking  the  turn  which  Kerneguy  had 
given  to  the  discourse  altogether  fit  for  her  presence; 
and,  desirous  civilly  to  break  off  the  conversation  —  'I 
see,'  he  said,  'this  is  about  the  time  when,  as  Will  says, 
the  household  affairs  will  call  my  daughter  hence;  I  will 
therefore  challenge  you,  young  gentleman,  to  stretch 
your  limbs  in  a  httle  exercise  with  me,  either  at  single 
rapier,  or  rapier  and  poniard,  backsword,  spadroon,  or 
your  national  weapons  of  broadsword  and  target;  for  all 
or  any  of  which  I  think  we  shall  find  implements  in  the 
hall.' 

'  It  would  be  too  high  a  distinction,'  Master  Kerneguy 
said,  'for  a  poor  page  to  be  permitted  to  try  a  passage  of 
arms  with  a  knight  so  renowned  as  Sir  Henry  Lee,  and 
he  hoped  to  enjoy  so  great  an  honour  before  he  left 
Woodstock,  but  at  the  present  moment  his  lameness 

94 


WOODSTOCK 

continued  to  give  him  so  much  pain,  that  he  should 
shame  himself  in  the  attempt.' 

Sir  Henry  then  offered  to  read  him  a  play  of  Shake- 
speare, and  for  this  purpose  turned  up  'King  Richard 
II.'  But  hardly  had  he  commenced  with 

Old  John  of  Gaunt,  time-honoured  Lancaster, 

when  the  young  gentleman  was  seized  with  such  an  in- 
controllable  fit  of  the  cramp  as  could  only  be  relieved  by 
immediate  exercise.  He  therefore  begged  permission  to 
be  allowed  to  saunter  abroad  for  a  little  while,  if  Sir 
Henry  Lee  considered  he  might  venture  without  danger. 

*  I  can  answer  for  the  two  or  three  of  our  people  that 
are  still  left  about  the  place,'  said  Sir  Henry;  'and  I 
know  my  son  has  disposed  them  so  as  to  be  constantly 
on  the  watch.  If  you  hear  the  bell  toll  at  the  lodge,  I 
advise  you  to  come  straight  home  by  the  way  of  the 
King's  Oak,  which  you  see  in  yonder  glade  towering 
above  the  rest  of  the  trees.  We  will  have  some  one  sta- 
tioned there  to  introduce  you  secretly  into  the  house.' 
The  page  listened  to  these  cautions  with  the  impatience 
of  a  schoolboy,  who,  desirous  of  enjoying  his  holiday, 
hears  without  marking  the  advice  of  tutor  or  parent 
about  taking  care  not  to  catch  cold  and  so  forth. 

The  absence  of  Alice  Lee  had  removed  all  which  had 
rendered  the  interior  of  the  lodge  agreeable,  and  the 
mercurial  young  page  fled  with  precipitation  from  the 
exercise  and  amusement  which  Sir  Henry  had  proposed. 
He  girded  on  his  rapier,  and  threw  his  cloak,  or  rather 
that  which  belonged  to  his  borrowed  suit,  about  him, 
bringing  up  the  lower  part  so  as  to  muffle  the  face  and 
show  only  the  eyes  over  it,  which  was  a  common  way  of 

95 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

wearing  them  in  those  days,  both  in  streets,  in  the  coun- 
try, and  in  public  places,  when  men  had  a  mind  to  be 
private,  and  to  avoid  interruption  from  salutations  and 
greetings  in  the  market-place.  He  hurried  across  the 
open  space  which  divided  the  front  of  the  lodge  from  the 
wood,  with  the  haste  of  a  bird  escaped  from  the  cage, 
which,  though  joyful  at  its  liberation,  is  at  the  same  time 
sensible  of  its  need  of  protection  and  shelter.  The  wood 
seemed  to  afford  these  to  the  human  fugitive,  as  it  might 
have  done  to  the  bird  in  question. 

When  under  the  shadow  of  the  branches,  and  within 
the  verge  of  the  forest,  covered  from  observation,  yet 
with  the  power  of  surveying  the  front  of  the  lodge  and 
all  the  open  ground  before  it,  the  supposed  Louis  Kerne- 
guy  meditated  on  his  escape. 

'What  an  infliction  —  to  fence  with  a  gouty  old  man, 
who  knows  not,  I  dare  say,  a  trick  of  the  sword  which 
was  not  familiar  in  the  days  of  old  Vincent  Saviolo !  Or, 
as  a  change  of  misery,  to  hear  him  read  one  of  those  wil- 
dernesses of  scenes  which  the  English  call  a  play,  from 
prologue  to  epilogue  —  from  Enter  the  first  to  the  final 
Exeunt  omnes  —  an  unparalleled  horror  —  a  penance 
which  would  have  made  a  dungeon  darker,  and  added 
dulness  even  to  Woodstock ! ' 

Here  he  stopped  and  looked  around,  then  continued 
his  meditations  —  '  So,  then,  it  was  here  that  the  gay  old 
Norman  secluded  his  pretty  mistress.  I  warrant,  with- 
out having  seen  her,  that  Rosamond  Clifford  was  never 
half  so  handsome  as  that  lovely  Alice  Lee.  And  what  a 
soul  there  is  in  the  girl's  eye!  with  what  abandonment  of 
all  respects,  save  that  expressing  the  interest  of  the  mo- 
ment, she  poured  forth  her  tide  of  enthusiasm !  Were  I 

96 


WOODSTOCK 

to  be  long  here,  in  spite  of  prudence  and  half  a  dozen 
very  venerable  obstacles  beside,  I  should  be  tempted  to 
try  to  reconcile  her  to  the  indifferent  visage  of  this  same 
hard-favoured  prmce.  Hard-favoured!  it  is  a  kind  of 
treason  for  one  who  pretends  to  so  much  loyalty  to  say 
so  of  the  King's  features,  and  in  my  mind  deserves  pun- 
ishment. Ah,  pretty  Mistress  AHce!  many  a  Mistress 
Alice  before  you  has  made  dreadful  exclamations  on  the 
irregularities  of  mankind  and  the  wickedness  of  the  age, 
and  ended  by  being  glad  to  look  out  for  apologies  for 
their  own  share  in  them.  But  then  her  father  —  the 
stout  old  Cavaher  —  my  father's  old  friend  —  should 
such  a  thing  befall,  it  would  break  his  heart.  Break  a 
pudding's  end  —  he  has  more  sense.  If  I  give  his  grand- 
son a  title  to  quarter  the  arms  of  England,  what  matter 
if  a  bar  sinister  is  dra\vn  across  them?  Pshaw!  far  from 
an  abatement,  it  is  a  point  of  addition:  the  heralds  in 
their  next  visitation  will  place  him  higher  in  the  roll  for 
it.  Then,  if  he  did  wince  a  little  at  first,  does  not  the  old 
traitor  deserve  it  —  first,  for  his  disloyal  intention  of 
punching  mine  anointed  body  black  and  blue  with  his 
vile  foils;  and  secondly,  his  atrocious  complot  with  Will 
Shakespeare,  a  fellow  as  much  out  of  date  as  himself,  to 
read  me  to  death  with  five  acts  of  a  historical  play,  or 
chronicle,  "being  the  piteous  Life  and  Death  of  Richard 
the  Second"?  Odds-fish,  my  own  Hfe  is  piteous  enough, 
as  I  think ;  and  my  death  may  match  it,  for  aught  I  see 
coming  yet.  Ah,  but  then  the  brother  —  my  friend,  my 
guide,  my  guard!  So  far  as  this  little  proposed  intrigue 
concerns  him,  such  practising  would  be  thought  not  quite 
fair.  But  your  bouncing,  swaggering,  revengeful  bro- 
thers exist  only  on  the  theatre.  Your  dire  revenge,  with 
38  97 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

which  a  brother  persecuted  a  poor  fellow  who  had  se- 
duced his  sister,  or  been  seduced  by  her,  as  the  case 
might  be,  as  relentlessly  as  if  he  had  trodden  on  his 
toes  without  making  an  apology,  is  entirely  out  of  fash- 
ion, since  Dorset  killed  the  Lord  Bruce  many  a  long 
year  since. ^  Pshaw!  when  a  king  is  the  offender,  the 
bravest  man  sacrifices  nothing  by  pocketing  a  little 
wrong  which  he  cannot  personally  resent.  And  in  France 
there  is  not  a  noble  house  where  each  individual  would 
not  cock  his  hat  an  inch  higher  if  they  could  boast  of 
such  a  left-handed  alliance  with  the  Grand  Monarque.' 
Such  were  the  thoughts  which  rushed  through  the 
mind  of  Charles  at  his  first  quitting  the  lodge  of  Wood- 
stock and  plunging  into  the  forest  that  surrounded  it. 
His  profligate  logic,  however,  was  not  the  result  of  his 
natural  disposition,  nor  received  without  scruple  by  his 
sound  understanding.  It  was  a  train  of  reasoning  which 
he  had  been  led  to  adopt  from  his  too  close  intimacy  with 
the  witty  and  profligate  youth  of  quality  by  whom  he 
had  been  surrounded.  It  arose  from  the  evil  communi- 
cation with  Villiers,  Wilmot,  Sedley,  and  others,  whose 
genius  was  destined  to  corrupt  that  age,  and  the  mon- 
arch on  whom  its  character  afterwards  came  so  much  to 
depend.  Such  men,  bred  amidst  the  license  of  civil  war, 
and  without  experiencing  that  curb  which  in  ordinary 
times  the  authority  of  parents  and  relations  imposes 
upon  the  headlong  passions  of  youth,  were  practised  in 
every  species  of  vice,  and  could  recommend  it  as  well  by 
precept  as  by  example,  turning  into  pitiless  ridicule  all 
those  nobler  feelings  which  withhold  men  from  gratify- 

^  This  melancholy  story  may  be  found  in  The  Guardian.  An  intrigue 
of  Lord  Sackville,  afterwards  Earl  of  Dorset,  was  the  cause  of  the  fatal 
duel. 

98 


WOODSTOCK 

ing  lawless  passion.  The  events  of  the  King's  life  had 
also  favoured  his  reception  of  this  epicurean  doctrine. 
He  saw  himself,  vnth.  the  highest  claims  to  sympathy 
and  assistance,  coldly  treated  by  the  courts  which  he 
visited,  rather  as  a  permitted  suppliant  than  an  exiled 
monarch.  He  beheld  his  own  rights  and  claims  treated 
with  scorn  and  indifference;  and,  in  the  same  proportion, 
he  was  reconciled  to  the  hardhearted  and  selfish  course 
of  dissipation  which  promised  him  immediate  indulg- 
ence. If  this  was  obtained  at  the  expense  of  the  happi- 
ness of  others,  should  he  of  all  men  be  scrupulous  upon 
the  subject,  since  he  treated  others  only  as  the  world 
treated  him? 

But  although  the  foundations  of  this  unhappy  system 
had  been  laid,  the  prince  was  not  at  this  early  period  so 
fully  devoted  to  it  as  he  was  found  to  have  become  when 
a  door  was  unexpectedly  opened  for  his  restoration.  On 
the  contrary,  though  the  train  of  gay  reasoning  which 
we  have  above  stated,  as  if  it  had  found  vent  in  uttered 
language,  did  certainly  arise  in  his  mind,  as  that  which 
would  have  been  suggested  by  his  favourite  counsellors 
on  such  occasions,  he  recollected  that  what  might  be 
passed  over  as  a  peccadillo  in  France  or  the  Netherlands, 
or  turned  into  a  diverting  novel  or  pasquinade  by  the 
wits  of  his  own  wandering  court,  was  likely  to  have  the 
aspect  of  horrid  ingratitude  and  infamous  treachery 
among  the  English  gentry,  and  would  inflict  a  deep, 
perhaps  an  incurable,  wound  upon  his  interest  among 
the  more  aged  and  respectable  part  of  his  adherents. 
Then  it  occurred  to  him  —  for  his  own  interest  did  not 
escape  him,  even  in  this  mode  of  considering  the  subject 
—  that  he  was  in  the  power  of  the  Lees,  father  and  son, 

99 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

who  were  always  understood  to  be  at  least  sujfficiently 
punctilious  on  the  score  of  honour;  and  if  they  should 
suspect  such  an  affront  as  his  imagination  had  conceived, 
they  could  be  at  no  loss  to  find  means  of  the  most  ample 
revenge,  either  by  their  own  hands  or  by  those  of  the 
ruling  faction. 

*  The  risk  of  reopening  the  fatal  window  at  Whitehall 
and  renewing  the  tragedy  of  the  man  in  the  mask  were  a 
worse  penalty,'  was  his  final  reflection,  'than  the  old 
stool  of  the  Scottish  penance;  and  pretty  though  Alice 
Lee  is,  I  cannot  afford  to  intrigue  at  such  a  hazard.  So, 
farewell,  pretty  maiden!  unless,  as  sometimes  has  hap- 
pened, thou  hast  a  humour  to  throw  thyself  at  thy  King's 
feet,  and  then  I  am  too  magnanimous  to  refuse  thee  my 
protection.  Yet,  when  I  think  of  the  pale  clay-cold 
figure  of  the  old  man,  as  he  lay  last  night  extended  before 
me,  and  imagine  the  fury  of  Albert  Lee  raging  with  im- 
patience, his  hand  on  a  sword  which  only  his  loyalty 
prevents  him  from  plunging  into  his  sovereign's  heart  — 
nay,  the  picture  is  too  horrible!  Charles  must  for  ever 
change  his  name  to  Joseph,  even  if  he  were  strongly 
tempted,  which  may  fortune  in  mercy  prohibit!' 

To  speak  the  truth  of  a  prince  more  unfortunate  in 
his  early  companions,  and  the  callousness  which  he  ac- 
quired by  his  juvenile  adventures  and  irregular  mode  of 
life,  than  in  his  natural  disposition,  Charles  came  the 
more  readily  to  this  wise  conclusion,  because  he  was  by 
no  means  subject  to  those  violent  and  engrossing  pas- 
sions to  gratify  which  the  world  has  been  thought  well 
lost.  His  amours,  like  many  of  the  present  day,  were 
rather  matters  of  habit  and  fashion  than  of  passion  and 
affection;  and,  in  comparing  himself  in  this  respect  to  his 

lOO 


WOODSTOCK 

grandfather  Henn''  IV,  he  did  neither  his  ancestor  nor 
himself  perfect  justice.  He  was,  to  parody  the  words  of  a 
bard,  himself  actuated  by  the  stormy  passions  which  an 
intriguer  often  only  simulates  — 

None  of  those  who  loved  so  kindly, 
None  of  those  who  loved  so  blindly. 

An  amour  was  with  him  a  matter  of  amusement,  a  regu- 
lar consequence,  as  it  seemed  to  him,  of  the  ordinary 
course  of  things  in  society.  He  was  not  at  the  trouble  to 
practise  seductive  arts,  because  he  had  seldom  found 
occasion  to  make  use  of  them,  his  high  rank,  and  the 
profligacy  of  part  of  the  female  society  with  which  he 
had  mingled,  rendering  them  unnecessary.  Added  to 
this,  he  had,  for  the  same  reason,  seldom  been  crossed  by 
the  obstinate  interference  of  relations,  or  even  of  hus- 
bands, who  had  generally  seemed  not  unwilling  to 
suffer  such  matters  to  take  their  course.  So  that,  not- 
withstanding his  total  looseness  of  principle,  and  sys- 
tematic disbeUef  in  the  virtue  of  women  and  the  honour 
of  men,  as  connected  with  the  character  of  their  female 
relatives,  Charles  was  not  a  person  to  have  studiously 
introduced  disgrace  into  a  family  where  a  conquest 
might  have  been  violently  disputed,  attained  with  diffi- 
culty, and  accompanied  with  general  distress,  not  to 
mention  the  excitation  of  all  fiercer  passions  against  the 
author  of  the  scandal. 

But  the  danger  of  the  King's  society  consisted  in  his 
being  much  of  an  unbeHever  in  the  existence  of  such 
cases  as  were  likely  to  be  embittered  by  remorse  on  the 
part  of  the  principal  victim,  or  rendered  perilous  by  the 
violent  resentment  of  her  connexions  or  relatives.   He 


lOI 


''.<5.-    >   sT  '.^  -' 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

had  even  already  found  such  things  treated  on  the  con- 
tinent as  matters  of  ordinary  occurrence,  subject,  in  all 
cases  where  a  man  of  high  influence  was  concerned,  to  an 
easy  arrangement;  and  he  was  really,  generally  speaking, 
sceptical  on  the  subject  of  severe  virtue  in  either  sex, 
and  apt  to  consider  it  as  a  veil  assumed  by  prudery  in 
women  and  hypocrisy  in  men,  to  extort  a  higher  reward 
for  their  compliance. 

While  we  are  discussing  the  character  of  his  disposi- 
tion to  gallantry,  the  wanderer  was  conducted,  by  the 
walk  he  had  chosen,  through  several  whimsical  turns, 
until  at  last  it  brought  him  under  the  windows  of  Victor 
Lee's  apartment,  where  he  descried  Alice  watering  and 
arranging  some  flowers  placed  on  the  oriel  window, 
which  was  easily  accessible  by  daylight,  although  at 
night  he  had  found  it  a  dangerous  attempt  to  scale  it. 
But  not  Alice  only,  her  father  also  showed  himself  near 
the  window,  and  beckoned  him  up.  The  family  party 
seemed  now  more  promising  than  before,  and  the  fugi- 
tive prince  was  weary  of  playing  battledore  and  shuttle- 
cock with  his  conscience,  and  much  disposed  to  let 
matters  go  as  chance  should  determine. 

He  climbed  lightly  up  the  broken  ascent,  and  was 
readily  welcomed  by  the  old  knight,  who  held  activity 
in  high  honour.  Ahce  also  seemed  glad  to  see  the  lively 
and  interesting  young  man;  and  by  her  presence,  and 
the  unaffected  mirth  with  which  she  enjoyed  his  sallies, 
he  was  animated  to  display  those  quaHties  of  wit  and 
humour  which  nobody  possessed  in  a  higher  degree. 

His  satire  delighted  the  old  gentleman,  who  laughed 
till  his  eyes  ran  over  as  he  heard  the  youth,  whose 
claims  to  his  respect  he  little  dreamed  of,  amusing  him 

I02 


WOODSTOCK 

with  successive  imitations  of  the  Scottish  Presbyterian 
clerg>Tnan,  of  the  proud  and  poor  hidalgo  of  the  North, 
of  the  fierce  and  overweening  pride  and  Celtic  dialect  of 
the  mountain  chief,  of  the  slow  and  more  pedantic  Low- 
lander,  with  all  of  which  his  residence  in  Scotland  had 
made  him  familiar.  Alice  also  laughed  and  applauded, 
amused  herself  and  delighted  to  see  that  her  father  was 
so;  and  the  whole  party  were  in  the  highest  glee  when 
Albert  Lee  entered,  eager  to  find  Louis  Kerneguy  and  to 
lead  him  away  to  a  private  colloquy  with  Dr.  Roche- 
cliffe,  whose  zeal,  assiduity,  and  wonderful  possession  of 
information  had  constituted  him  their  master-pilot  in 
those  difficult  times. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  introduce  the  reader  to  the  minute 
particulars  of  their  conference.  The  information  ob- 
tained was  so  far  favourable,  that  the  enemy  seemed  to 
have  had  no  intelligence  of  the  King's  route  towards  the 
south,  and  remained  persuaded  that  he  had  made  his 
escape  from  Bristol,  as  had  been  reported,  and  as  had 
indeed  been  proposed;  but  the  master  of  the  vessel  pre- 
pared for  the  Bang's  passage  had  taken  the  alarm,  and 
sailed  without  his  royal  freight.  His  departure,  however, 
and  the  suspicion  of  the  service  in  which  he  was  engaged, 
served  to  make  the  belief  general  that  the  King  had  gone 
off  along  with  him. 

But  though  this  was  cheering,  the  Doctor  had  more 
unpleasant  tidings  from  the  sea-coast,  alleging  great 
difficulties  in  securing  a  vessel  to  which  it  might  be  fit  to 
commit  a  charge  so  precious;  and,  above  all,  requesting 
his  Majesty  might  on  no  account  venture  to  approach 
the  shore  until  he  should  receive  advice  that  all  the 
previous  arrangements  had  been  completely  settled.  , 

103 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

No  one  was  able  to  suggest  a  safer  place  of  residence 
than  that  which  he  at  present  occupied.  Colonel  Ever- 
ard  was  deemed  certainly  not  personally  unfriendly  to 
the  King;  and  Cromwell,  as  was  supposed,  reposed  in 
Everard  an  unbounded  confidence.  The  interior  pre- 
sented numberless  hiding-places  and  secret  modes  of 
exit,  known  to  no  one  but  the  ancient  residents  of  the 
lodge  —  nay,  far  better  to  Rochecliffe  than  to  any  of 
them,  as,  when  rector  at  the  neighbouring  town,  his 
prying  disposition  as  an  antiquary  had  induced  him  to 
make  very  many  researches  among  the  old  ruins,  the 
results  of  which  he  was  believed,  in  some  instances,  to 
have  kept  to  himself. 

To  balance  these  conveniences,  it  was  no  doubt  true 
that  the  ParUamentary  Commissioners  were  still  at  no 
great  distance,  and  would  be  ready  to  resume  their 
authority  upon  the  first  opportunity.  But  no  one  sup- 
posed such  an  opportunity  was  Hkely  to  occur;  and  all 
believed,  as  the  influence  of  Cromwell  and  the  army  grew 
more  and  more  predominant,  that  the  disappointed 
Commissioners  would  attempt  nothing  in  contradiction 
to  his  pleasure,  but  wait  with  patience  an  indemnifica- 
tion in  some  other  quarter  for  their  vacated  commis- 
sions. Report,  through  the  voice  of  Master  Joseph 
Tomkins,  stated  that  they  had  determined,  in  the  first 
place,  to  retire  to  Oxford,  and  were  maldng  preparations 
accordingly.  This  promised  still  further  to  ensure  the 
security  of  Woodstock.  It  was  therefore  settled  that  the 
King,  under  the  character  of  Louis  Kerneguy,  should 
remain  an  inmate  of  the  lodge  until  a  vessel  should  be 
procured  for  his  escape,  at  the  port  which  might  be  es- 
teemed the  safest  and  most  convenient. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

The  deadliest  snakes  are  those  which,  twined  'mongst  flowers, 
Blend  their  bright  colouring  with  the  varied  blossoms, 
Their  fierce  eyes  glittering  like  the  spangled  dewdrop; 
In  all  so  like  what  nature  has  most  harmless. 
That  sportive  innocence,  which  dreads  no  danger. 
Is  poison'd  unawares. 

Old  Play. 

Charles  (we  must  now  give  him  his  own  name)  was 
easily  reconciled  to  the  circumstances  which  rendered 
his  residence  at  Woodstock  advisable.  No  doubt  he 
would  much  rather  have  secured  his  safety  by  making  an 
immediate  escape  out  of  England ;  but  he  had  been  con- 
demned already  to  many  uncomfortable  lurking-places, 
and  more  disagreeable  disguises,  as  well  as  to  long  and 
difficult  journeys,  during  which,  between  pragmatical 
ofl&cers  of  justice  belonging  to  the  prevailing  party,  and 
parties  of  soldiers  whose  officers  usually  took  on  them  to 
act  on  their  own  warrant,  risk  of  discovery  had  more 
than  once  become  very  imminent.  He  was  glad,  there- 
fore, of  comparative  repose  and  of  comparative  safety. 
Then  it  must  be  considered  that  Charles  had  been 
entirely  reconciled  to  the  society  at  Woodstock  since  he 
had  become  better  acquainted  with  it.  He  had  seen  that, 
to  interest  the  beautiful  Alice,  and  procure  a  great  deal 
of  her  company,  nothing  more  was  necessary  than  to 
submit  to  the  humours,  and  cultivate  the  intimacy,  of 
the  old  Cavalier  her  father.  A  few  bouts  at  fencing,  in 
which  Charles  took  care  not  to  put  out  his  more  perfect 
skill  and  full  youthful  strength  and  activity;  the  endur- 

105 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

ance  of  a  few  scenes  from  Shakespeare,  which  the  knight 
read  with  more  zeal  than  taste;  a  little  skill  in  music,  in 
which  the  old  man  had  been  a  proficient;  the  deference 
paid  to  a  few  old-fashioned  opinions,  at  which  Charles 
laughed  in  his  sleeve  —  were  all-sufiicient  to  gain  for  the 
disguised  prince  an  interest  in  Sir  Henry  Lee,  and  to 
conciliate  in  an  equal  degree  the  good-will  of  his  lovely 
daughter. 

Never  were  there  two  young  persons  who  could  be 
said  to  commence  this  species  of  intimacy  with  such 
unequal  advantages.  Charles  was  a  Ubertine,  who,  if  he 
did  not  in  cold  blood  resolve  upon  prosecuting  his  pas- 
sion for  Alice  to  a  dishonourable  conclusion,  was  at  every 
moment  liable  to  be  provoked  to  attempt  the  strength 
of  a  virtue  in  which  he  was  no  believer.  Then  Alice,  on 
her  part,  hardly  knew  even  what  was  implied  by  the 
word  libertine  or  seducer.  Her  mother  had  died  early 
in  the  commencement  of  the  Civil  War,  and  she  had 
been  bred  up  chiefly  with  her  brother  and  cousin;  so  that 
she  had  an  unfearing  and  unsuspicious  frankness  of 
manner,  upon  which  Charles  was  not  unwilling  or  un- 
likely to  put  a  construction  favourable  to  his  own  views. 
Even  Alice's  love  for  her  cousin  —  the  first  sensation 
which  awakens  the  most  innocent  and  simple  mind  to 
feelings  of  shyness  and  restraint  towards  the  male  sex 
in  general  —  had  failed  to  excite  such  an  alarm  in  her 
bosom.  They  were  nearly  related ;  and  Everard,  though 
young,  was  several  years  her  elder,  and  had,  from  her 
infancy,  been  an  object  of  her  respect  as  well  as  of  her 
affection.  When  this  early  and  childish  intimacy  ripened 
into  youthful  love,  confessed  and  returned,  still  it  dif- 
fered in  some  shades  from  the  passion  existing  between 

1 06 


WOODSTOCK 

lovers  originally  strangers  to  each  other,  until  their 
aflfections  have  been  united  in  the  ordinary  course  of 
courtship.  Their  love  was  fonder,  more  familiar,  more 
perfectly  confidential,  purer  too,  perhaps,  and  more  free 
from  starts  of  passionate  violence  or  appprehensive 
jealousy. 

The  possibility  that  any  one  could  have  attempted  to 
rival  Everard  in  her  affection  was  a  circumstance  which 
never  occurred  to  Ahce;  and  that  this  singular  Scottish 
lad,  whom  she  laughed  with  on  account  of  his  humour, 
and  laughed  at  for  his  peculiarities,  should  be  an  object  of 
danger  or  of  caution  never  once  entered  her  imagination. 
The  sort  of  intimacy  to  which  she  admitted  Kerneguy 
was  the  same  to  which  she  would  have  received  a  com- 
panion of  her  own  sex,  whose  manners  she  did  not  always 
approve,  but  whose  society  she  found  always  amusing. 

It  was  natural  that  the  freedom  of  Alice  Lee's  con- 
duct, which  arose  from  the  most  perfect  indifference, 
should  pass  for  something  approaching  to  encourage- 
ment in  the  royal  gallant's  apprehension,  and  that  any 
resolutions  he  had  formed  against  being  tempted  to 
violate  the  hospitality  of  Woodstock  should  begin  to 
totter,  as  opportunities  for  doing  so  became  more 
frequent. 

These  opportunities  were  favoured  by  Albert's  depart- 
ure from  Woodstock  the  very  day  after  his  arrival.  It 
had  been  agreed  in  full  council  with  Charles  and  Roche- 
cliffe  that  he  should  go  to  visit  his  uncle  Everard  in  the 
county  of  Kent,  and,  by  showing  himself  there,  obviate 
any  cause  of  suspicion  which  might  arise  from  his  resi- 
dence at  Woodstock,  and  remove  any  pretext  for  dis- 
turbing his  father's  family  on  account  of  their  harbour- 

107 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

ing  one  who  had  been  so  lately  in  arms.  He  had  also 
undertaken,  at  his  own  great  personal  risk,  to  visit  differ- 
ent points  on  the  sea-coast,  and  ascertain  the  security  of 
different  places  for  providing  shipping  for  the  King's 
leaving  England. 

These  circumstances  were  alike  calculated  to  procure 
the  King's  safety  and  faciHtate  his  escape.  But  Alice 
was  thereby  deprived  of  the  presence  of  her  brother, 
who  would  have  been  her  most  watchful  guardian,  but 
who  had  set  down  the  King's  light  talk  upon  a  former 
occasion  to  the  gaiety  of  his  humour,  and  would  have 
thought  he  had  done  his  sovereign  great  injustice  had 
he  seriously  suspected  him  of  such  a  breach  of  hospi- 
tality as  a  dishonourable  pursuit  of  Alice  would  have 
implied. 

There  were,  however,  two  of  the  household  at  Wood- 
stock who  appeared  not  so  entirely  reconciled  with 
Louis  Kerneguy  or  his  purposes.  The  one  was  Bevis, 
who  seemed,  from  their  first  unfriendly  rencontre,  to 
have  kept  up  a  pique  against  their  new  guest,  which 
no  advances  on  the  part  of  Charles  were  able  to  soften. 
If  the  page  was  by  chance  left  alone  with  his  young 
mistress,  Bevis  chose  always  to  be  of  the  party,  came 
close  by  Alice's  chair  and  growled  audibly  when  the 
gallant  drew  near  her.  'It  is  a  pity,'  said  the  disguised 
prince,  *  that  your  Bevis  is  not  a  bull-dog,  that  we  might 
dub  him  a  Roundhead  at  once.  He  is  too  handsome, 
too  noble,  too  aristocratic  to  nourish  those  inhospitable 
prejudices  against  a  poor  houseless  Cavalier.  I  am  con- 
vinced the  spirit  of  Pym  or  Hampden  has  transmigrated 
into  the  rogue,  and  continues  to  demonstrate  his  hatred 
against  royalty  and  all  its  adherents.' 

io8 


WOODSTOCK 

Alice  would  then  reply,  that  Bevis  was  loyal  in  word 
and  deed,  and  only  partook  her  father's  prejudices 
against  the  Scots,  which,  she  could  not  but  acknowledge 
were  tolerably  strong. 

'Nay,  then,'  said  the  supposed  Louis,  *I  must  find 
some  other  reason,  for  I  cannot  allow  Sir  Bevis's  resent- 
ment to  rest  upon  national  antipathy.  So  we  will  sup- 
pose that  some  gallant  CavaUer,  who  wended  to  the 
wars  and  never  returned,  has  adopted  this  shape  to 
look  back  upon  the  haunts  he  left  so  unwillingly,  and 
is  jealous  at  seeing  even  poor  Louis  Kerneguy  drawing 
near  to  the  lady  of  his  lost  affections. '  He  approached 
her  chair  as  he  spoke,  and  Bevis  gave  one  of  his  deep 
growls. 

*In  that  case,  you  had  best  keep  your  distance,'  said 
Alice,  laughing, '  for  the  bite  of  a  dog  possessed  by  the 
ghost  of  a  jealous  lover  cannot  be  very  safe.'  And  the 
King  carried  on  the  dialogue  in  the  same  strain,  which, 
while  it  led  Alice  to  apprehend  nothing  more  serious 
than  the  apish  gallantry  of  a  fantastic  boy,  certainly 
induced  the  supposed  Louis  Kerneguy  to  think  that 
he  had  made  one  of  those  conquests  which  often  and 
easily  fall  to  the  share  of  sovereigns.  Notwithstanding 
the  acuteness  of  his  apprehension,  he  was  not  sufficiently 
aware  that  the  royal  road  to  female  favour  is  only  open 
to  monarchs  when  they  travel  in  grand  costume,  and 
that  when  they  woo  incognito  their  path  of  courtship 
is  liable  to  the  same  windings  and  obstacles  which  ob- 
struct the  course  of  private  individuals. 

There  was,  besides  Bevis,  another  member  of  the 
family  who  kept  a  look-out  upon  Louis  Kerneguy,  and 
with  no  friendly  eye.    Phoebe  Mayflower,  though  her 

109 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

experience  extended  not  beyond  the  sphere  of  the  vil- 
lage, yet  knew  the  world  much  better  than  her  mistress, 
and  besides  she  was  five  years  older.  More  knowing, 
she  was  more  suspicious.  She  thought  that  odd-looking 
Scotch  boy  made  more  up  to  her  young  mistress  than 
was  proper  for  his  condition  of  hfe;  and,  moreover,  that 
AHce  gave  him  a  Httle  more  encouragement  than  Par- 
thenia  would  have  afforded  to  any  such  Jack-a-dandy 
in  the  absence  of  Argalus;  for  the  volume  treating  of  the 
loves  of  these  celebrated  Arcadians  was  then  the  favour- 
ite study  of  swains  and  damsels  throughout  merry 
England.  Entertaining  such  suspicions,  Phoebe  was  at 
a  loss  how  to  conduct  herself  on  the  occasion,  and  yet 
resolved  she  would  not  see  the  slightest  chance  of  the 
course  of  Colonel  Everard's  true  love  being  obstructed 
without  attempting  a  remedy.  She  had  a  peculiar 
favour  for  Markham  herself;  and  moreover,  he  was, 
according  to  her  phrase,  as  handsome  and  personable 
a  young  man  as  was  in  Oxfordshire;  and  this  Scottish 
scarecrow  was  no  more  to  be  compared  to  him  than 
chalk  was  to  cheese.  And  yet  she  allowed  that  Master 
Girnigy  had  a  wonderfully  well-oiled  tongue,  and  that 
such  gallants  were  not  to  be  despised.  What  was  to  be 
done?  She  had  no  facts  to  offer,  only  vague  suspicions; 
and  was  afraid  to  speak  to  her  mistress,  whose  kind- 
ness, great  as  it  was,  did  not,  nevertheless,  encourage 
familiarity. 

She  sounded  Jocehne ;  but  he  was,  she  knew  not  why, 
so  deeply  interested  about  this  unlucky  lad,  and  held  his 
importance  so  high,  that  she  could  make  no  impression 
on  him.  To  speak  to  the  old  knight  would  have  been  to 
raise  a  general  tempest.  The  worthy  chaplain,  who  was  at 

no 


WOODSTOCK 

Woodstock  grand  referee  on  all  disputed  matters,  would 
have  been  the  damsel's  most  natural  resource,  for  he 
was  peaceful  as  well  as  moral  by  profession,  and  poHtic 
by  practice.  But  it  happened  he  had  given  Phcebe  un- 
intentional offence  by  speaking  of  her  under  the  classical 
epithet  of  Rustica  Fidele,  the  which  epithet,  as  she  un- 
derstood it  not,  she  held  herself  bound  to  resent  as  con- 
tumelious, and  declaring  she  was  not  fonder  of  a  fiddle 
than  other  folk,  had  ever  since  shunned  all  intercourse 
with  Dr.  Rochecliffe  which  she  could  easily  avoid. 

Master  Tomkins  was  always  coming  and  going  about 
the  house  under  various  pretexts;  but  he  was  a  Round- 
head, and  she  was  too  true  to  the  Cavaliers  to  introduce 
any  of  the  enemy  as  parties  to  their  internal  discords; 
besides,  he  had  talked  to  Phoebe  herself  in  a  manner 
which  induced  her  to  decline  everything  in  the  shape  of 
famiUarity  with  him.  Lastly,  CavaHero  Wildrake  might 
have  been  consulted;  but  Phcebe  had  her  own  reasons 
for  saying,  as  she  did  with  some  emphasis,  that  Cava- 
Hero Wildrake  was  an  impudent  London  rake.  At  length 
she  resolved  to  communicate  her  suspicions  to  the  party 
having  most  interest  in  verifying  or  confuting  them. 

'I'll  let  Master  Markham  Everard  know  that  there 
is  a  wasp  buzzing  about  his  honeycomb,'  said  Phoebe; 
'and,  moreover,  that  I  know  that  this  young  Scotch 
scapegrace  shifted  himself  out  of  a  woman's  into  a  man's 
dress  at  Goody  Green's,  and  gave  Goody  Green's  Dolly 
a  gold  piece  to  say  nothing  about  it;  and  no  more  she 
did  to  any  one  but  me,  and  she  knows  best  herself 
whether  she  gave  change  for  the  gold  or  not;  but  Master 
Louis  is  a  saucy  jackanapes,  and  like  enough  to  ask  it.' 

Three  or  four  days  elapsed  while  matters  continued 
III 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

in  this  condition,  the  disguised  prince  sometimes  think- 
ing on  the  intrigue  which  Fortune  seemed  to  have  thrown 
in  his  way  for  his  amusement,  and  taking  advantage 
of  such  opportunities  as  occurred  to  increase  his  inti- 
macy with  Alice  Lee;  but  much  oftener  harassing  Dr. 
RochecUffe  with  questions  about  the  possibiUty  of  escape, 
which  the  good  man  finding  himself  unable  to  answer, 
secured  his  leisure  against  royal  importunity  by  retreat- 
ing into  the  various  unexplored  recesses  of  the  lodge, 
known  perhaps  only  to  himself,  who  had  been  for  nearly 
a  score  of  years  employed  in  writing  the  'Wonders  of 
Woodstock.' 

It  chanced  on  the  fourth  day  that  some  trifling  cir- 
cumstance had  called  the  knight  abroad;  and  he  had  left 
the  young  Scotsman,  now  familiar  in  the  family,  along 
with  Ahce  in  the  parlour  of  Victor  Lee.  Thus  situated, 
he  thought  the  time  not  unpropitious  for  entering  upon 
a  strain  of  gallantry  of  a  kind  which  might  be  called  ex- 
perimental, such  as  is  practised  by  the  Croats  in  skir- 
mishing, when  they  keep  bridle  in  hand,  ready  to  attack 
the  enemy  or  canter  off  without  coming  to  close  quar- 
ters, as  circumstances  may  recommend.  After  using  for 
nearly  ten  minutes  a  sort  of  metaphysical  jargon,  which 
might,  according  to  AHce's  pleasure,  have  been  inter- 
preted either  into  gallantry  or  the  language  of  serious 
pretension,  and  when  he  supposed  her  engaged  in  fath- 
oming his  meaning,  he  had  the  mortification  to  find, 
by  a  single  and  brief  question,  that  he  had  been  totally 
unattended  to,  and  that  AHce  was  thinking  on  anything 
at  the  moment  rather  than  the  sense  of  what  he  had  been 
saying.  She  asked  him  if  he  could  tell  what  it  was  o'clock, 
and  this  with  an  air  of  real  curiosity  concerning  the  lapse 

112  , 


WOODSTOCK 

of  time  which  put  coquetry  wholly  out  of  the  question. 

*I  will  go  look  at  the  sun-dial,  Mistress  Alice,'  said 
the  gallant,  rising  and  colouring,  through  a  sense  of  the 
contempt  with  which  he  thought  himself  treated. 

*You  will  do  me  a  pleasure.  Master  Kemeguy,'  said 
Alice,  without  the  least  consciousness  of  the  indignation 
she  had  excited. 

Master  Louis  Kerneguy  left  the  room  accordingly, 
not,  however,  to  procure  the  information  required,  but 
to  vent  his  anger  and  mortification,  and  to  swear,  with 
more  serious  purpose  than  he  had  dared  to  do  before, 
that  Alice  should  rue  her  insolence.  Good-natured  as  he 
was,  he  was  still  a  prince,  unaccustomed  to  contradic- 
tion, far  less  to  contempt,  and  his  self-pride  felt,  for 
the  moment,  wounded  to  the  quick.  With  a  hasty  step 
he  plunged  into  the  chase,  only  remembering  his  own 
safety  so  far  as  to  choose  the  deeper  and  sequestered 
avenues,  where,  walking  on  with  the  speedy  and  active 
step  which  his  recovery  from  fatigue  now  permitted  him 
to  exercise  according  to  his  wont,  he  solaced  his  angry 
purposes,  by  devising  schemes  of  revenge  on  the  inso- 
lent country  coquette,  from  which  no  consideration  of 
hospitality  was  in  future  to  have  weight  enough  to  save 
her. 

The  irritated  gallant  passed 

The  dial-stone,  aged  and  green, 

without  deigning  to  ask  it  a  single  question;  nor  could 
it  have  satisfied  his  curiosity  if  he  had,  for  no  sun  hap- 
pened to  shine  at  the  moment.  He  then  hastened  for- 
ward, mufiling  himself  in  his  cloak,  and  assuming  a 
stooping  and  slouching  gait,  which  diminished  his  ap- 

88  113 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

parent  height.  He  was  soon  involved  in  the  deep  and 
dim  alleys  of  the  wood,  into  which  he  had  insensibly- 
plunged  himself,  and  was  traversing  it  at  a  great  rate, 
without  having  any  distinct  idea  in  what  direction  he 
was  going,  when  suddenly  his  course  was  arrested,  first 
by  a  loud  halloo,  and  then  by  a  summons  to  stand,  ac- 
companied by  what  seemed  still  more  startling  and  ex- 
traordinary, the  touch  of  a  cane  upon  his  shoulder,  im- 
posed in  a  good-humoured  but  somewhat  imperious 
manner. 

There  were  few  symptoms  of  recognition  which  would 
have  been  welcome  at  this  moment;  but  the  appearance 
of  the  person  who  had  thus  arrested  his  course  was  least 
of  all  that  he  could  have  anticipated  as  timely  or  agree- 
able. When  he  turned,  on  receiving  the  signal,  he  be- 
held himself  close  to  a  young  man  nearly  six  feet  in 
height,  well  made  in  joint  and  limb,  but  the  gravity  of 
whose  apparel,  although  handsome  and  gentlemanUke, 
and  a  sort  of  precision  in  his  habit,  from  the  cleanness 
and  stiffness  of  his  band  to  the  unsullied  purity  of  his 
Spanish-leather  shoes,  bespoke  a  love  of  order  which 
was  foreign  to  the  impoverished  and  vanquished  Cava- 
liers, and  proper  to  the  habits  of  those  of  the  victorious 
party,  who  could  afford  to  dress  themselves  handsomely, 
and  whose  rule  —  that  is,  such  as  regarded  the  higher 
and  more  respectable  classes  —  enjoined  decency  and 
sobriety  of  garb  and  deportment.  There  was  yet  an- 
other weight  against  the  prince  in  the  scale,  and  one  still 
more  characteristic  of  the  inequality  in  the  comparison 
under  which  he  seemed  to  labour.  There  was  strength 
in  the  muscular  form  of  the  stranger  who  had  brought 
him  to  this  involuntary  parley,  authority  and  determina- 

114 


WOODSTOCK 

tion  in  his  brow,  a  long  rapier  on  the  left,  and  a  poniard 
or  dagger  on  the  right,  side  of  his  belt,  and  a  pair  of 
pistols  stuck  into  it,  which  would  have  been  sufficient 
to  give  the  unknown  the  advantage  (Louis  Kerneguy 
havmg  no  weapon  but  his  sword),  even  had  his  personal 
strength  approached  nearer  than  it  did  to  that  of  the 
person  by  whom  he  was  thus  suddenly  stopped. 

Bitterly  regretting  the  thoughtless  fit  of  passion  that 
brought  him  into  his  present  situation,  but  especially 
the  want  of  the  pistols  he  had  left  behind,  and  which  do 
so  much  to  place  bodily  strength  and  weakness  upon 
an  equal  footing,  Charles  yet  availed  himself  of  the  cour- 
age and  presence  of  mind  in  which  few  of  his  unfortunate 
family  had  for  centuries  been  deficient.  He  stood  firm 
and  without  motion,  his  cloak  still  wrapped  round  the 
lower  part  of  his  face,  to  give  time  for  explanation,  in  case 
he  was  mistaken  for  some  other  person. 

This  coolness  produced  its  effect;  for  the  other  party 
said,  with  doubt  and  surprise  on  his  part,  'Joceline 
Joliffe,  is  it  not?  If  I  know  not  Joccline  Joliffe,  I  should 
at  least  know  my  own  cloak.' 

*  I  am  not  Jocehne  Joliffe,  as  you  may  see,  sir, '  said 
Kerneguy,  calmly,  drawing  himself  erect  to  show  the 
difference  of  size,  and  dropping  the  cloak  from  his  face 
and  person. 

'Indeed!'  replied  the  stranger,  in  surprise;  Hhen,  sir 
unknown,  I  have  to  express  my  regret  at  having  used 
my  cane  in  intimating  that  I  wished  you  to  stop.  From 
that  dress,  which  I  certainly  recognise  for  my  own,  I 
concluded  you  must  be  Joceline,  in  whose  custody  I  had 
left  my  habit  at  the  lodge.' 

'If  it  had  been  Joceline,  sir,'  replied  the  supposed 

"5 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Kerneguy,  with  perfect  composure,  'methinks  you 
should  not  have  struck  so  hard.' 

The  other  party  was  obviously  confused  by  the  steady 
calmness  with  which  he  was  encountered.  The  sense 
of  poHteness  dictated,  in  the  first  place,  an  apology 
for  a  mistake,  when  he  thought  he  had  been  toler- 
ably certain  of  the  person.  Master  Kerneguy  was  not 
in  a  situation  to  be  punctilious:  he  bowed  gravely, 
as  indicating  his  acceptance  of  the  excuse  offered,  then 
turned,  and  walked,  as  he  conceived,  towards  the 
lodge,  though  he  had  traversed  the  woods,  which  were 
cut  with  various  alleys  in  different  directions,  too  has- 
tily to  be  certain  of  the  real  course  which  he  wished  to 
pursue. 

He  was  much  embarrassed  to  find  that  this  did  not 
get  him  rid  of  the  companion  whom  he  had  thus  invol- 
untarily acquired.  Walked  he  slow,  walked  he  fast,  his 
friend  in  the  genteel  but  Puritanic  habit,  strong  in  per- 
son, and  well  armed,  as  we  have  described  him,  seemed 
determined  to  keep  him  company,  and,  without  attempt- 
ing to  join  or  enter  into  conversation,  never  suffered 
him  to  outstrip  his  surveillance  for  more  than  two  or 
three  yards.  The  wanderer  mended  his  pace;  but  al- 
though he  was  then,  in  his  youth,  as  afterwards  in  his 
riper  age,  one  of  the  best  walkers  in  Britain,  the  stranger, 
without  advancing  his  pace  to  a  run,  kept  fully  equal 
to  him,  and  his  persecution  became  so  close,  and  con- 
stant, and  inevitable,  that  the  pride  and  fear  of 
Charles  were  both  alarmed,  and  he  began  to  think 
that,  whatever  the  danger  might  be  of  a  single-handed 
rencontre,  he  would  nevertheless  have  a  better  bar- 
gain of  this  tall  satellite  if  they  settled  the  debate  be- 

ii6 


WOODSTOCK 

twixt  them  in  the  forest  than  if  they  drew  near  any 
place  of  habitation,  where  the  man  in  authority  was 
likely  to  find  friends  and  concurrence. 

Betwixt  anxiety,  therefore,  vexation,  and  anger, 
Charles  faced  suddenly  round  on  his  pursuer  as  they 
reached  a  small,  narrow  glade  which  led  to  the  little 
meadow  over  which  presided  the  King's  Oak,  the  ragged 
and  scathed  branches  and  gigantic  trunk  of  which  formed 
a  vista  to  the  Uttlc  wild  avenue. 

'Sir,'  said  he  to  his  pursuer,  'you  have  already  been 
guilty  of  one  piece  of  impertinence  towards  me.  You 
have  apologised ;  and  knowing  no  reason  why  you  should 
distinguish  me  as  an  object  of  incivility,  I  have  accepted 
your  excuse  without  scruple.  Is  there  anything  remains 
to  be  settled  betwixt  us,  which  causes  you  to  follow  me 
in  this  manner?  If  so,  I  shall  be  glad  to  make  it  a  subject 
of  explanation  or  satisfaction,  as  the  case  may  admit  of. 
I  think  you  can  owe  me  no  malice,  for  I  never  saw  you 
before  to  my  knowledge.  If  you  can  give  any  good  reason 
for  asking  it,  I  am  willing  to  render  you  personal  satis- 
faction. If  your  purpose  is  merely  impertinent  curiosity, 
I  let  you  know  that  I  will  not  suffer  myself  to  be  dogged 
in  my  private  walks  by  any  one.' 

'When  I  recognise  my  own  cloak  on  another  man's 
shoulders,'  repUcd  the  stranger,  drily,  'methinks  I  have 
a  natural  right  to  follow,  and  see  what  becomes  of  it; 
for  know,  sir,  though  I  have  been  mistaken  as  to  the 
wearer,  yet  I  am  confident  I  had  as  good  a  right  to  stretch 
my  cane  across  the  cloak  you  are  muffled  in  as  ever  had 
any  one  to  brush  his  own  garments.  If,  therefore,  we 
are  to  be  friends,  I  must  ask,  for  instance,  how  you  came 
by  that  cloak,  and  where  you  are  going  with  it?  I  shall 

117 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

otherwise  make  bold  to  stop  you,  as  one  who  has  suflEi- 
cient  commission  to  do  so.' 

'Oh,  unhappy  cloak,'  thought  the  wanderer,  *ay, 
and  thrice  unhappy  the  idle  fancy  that  sent  me  here 
with  it  wrapped  around  my  nose,  to  pick  quarrels  and 
attract  observation,  when  quiet  and  secrecy  were  pe- 
culiarly essential  to  my  safety!' 

'If  you  will  allow  me  to  guess,  sir,'  continued  the 
stranger,  who  was  no  other  than  Markham  Everard, 
*  I  will  convince  you  that  you  are  better  known  than  you 
think  for.' 

'Now,  Heaven  forbid!'  prayed  the  party  addressed, 
in  silence,  but  with  as  much  devotion  as  ever  he  applied 
to  a  prayer  in  his  life.  Yet,  even  in  this  moment  of  ex- 
treme urgency,  his  courage  and  composure  did  not  fail; 
and  he  recollected  it  was  of  the  utmost  importance  not 
to  seem  startled,  and  to  answer  so  as,  if  possible,  to  lead 
the  dangerous  companion  with  whom  he  had  met  to 
confess  the  extent  of  his  actual  knowledge  or  suspicions 
concerning  him. 

'If  you  know  me,  sir,'  he  said,  'and  are  a  gentleman, 
as  your  appearance  promises,  you  cannot  be  at  a  loss  to 
discover  to  what  accident  you  must  attribute  my  wear- 
ing these  clothes,  which  you  say  are  yours.' 

'Oh,  sir,'  rephed  Colonel  Everard,  his  wrath  in  no 
sort  turned  away  by  the  mildness  of  the  stranger's 
answer,  'we  have  learned  our  Ovid's  "Metamorphoses," 
and  we  know  for  what  purposes  young  men  of  quality 
travel  in  disguise;  we  know  that  even  female  attire  is 
resorted  to  on  certain  occasions:  we  have  heard  of  Ver- 
tumnus  and  Pomona.' 

The  monarch,  as  he  weighed  these  words,  again  ut- 

ii8 


WOODSTOCK 

tered  a  devout  prayer  that  this  ill-looking  affair  might 
have  no  deeper  root  than  the  jealousy  of  some  admirer 
of  Alice  Lee,  promising  to  himself  that,  devotee  as  he 
was  to  the  fair  sex,  he  would  make  no  scruple  of  renounc- 
ing the  fairest  of  Eve's  daughters  in  order  to  get  out 
of  the  present  dilemma. 

*  Sir,'  he  said,  'you  seem  to  be  a  gentleman.  I  have  no 
objection  to  tell  you,  as  such,  that  I  also  am  of  that 
class.' 

'Or  somewhat  higher,  perhaps?'  said  Everard. 

'A  gentleman,'  repUed  Charles,  'is  a  term  which  com- 
prehends all  ranks  entitled  to  armorial  bearings.  A 
duke,  a  lord,  a  prince  is  no  more  than  a  gentleman;  and 
if  in  misfortune,  as  I  am,  he  may  be  glad  if  that  general 
term  of  courtesy  is  allowed  him.' 

'Sir,'  replied  Everard,  '  I  have  no  purpose  to  entrap 
you  to  any  acknowledgment  fatal  to  your  safety.  Nor 
do  I  hold  it  my  business  to  be  active  in  the  arrest  of 
private  individuals,  whose  perverted  sense  of  national 
duty  may  have  led  them  into  errors  rather  to  be  pitied 
than  punished  by  candid  men.  But  if  those  who  have 
brought  civil  war  and  disturbance  into  their  native 
country  proceed  to  carry  dishonour  and  disgrace  into 
the  bosom  of  families,  if  they  attempt  to  carry  on  their 
private  debaucheries  to  the  injury  of  the  hospitable  roofs 
which  afford  them  refuge  from  the  consequences  of  their 
public  crimes,  do  you  think,  my  lord,  that  we  shall  bear 
it  with  patience?' 

'If  it  is  your  purpose  to  quarrel  with  me,'  said  the 
prince, '  speak  it  out  at  once  like  a  gentleman.  You  have 
the  advantage,  no  doubt,  of  arms,  but  it  is  not  that  odds 
which  will  induce  me  to  fly  from  a  single  man.    If,  on 

119 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

the  other  hand,  you  are  disposed  to  hear  reason,  I  tell 
you  in  calm  words,  that  I  neither  suspect  the  offence  to 
which  you  allude  nor  comprehend  why  you  give  me  the 
title  of  my  lord.' 

'  You  deny,  then,  being  the  Lord  Wilmot? '  said  Ever- 
ard. 

*I  may  do  so  most  safely,'  said  the  prince. 

'Perhaps  you  rather  style  yourself  Earl  of  Roches- 
ter? We  heard  that  the  issuing  of  some  such  patent 
by  the  King  of  Scots  was  a  step  which  your  ambition 
proposed.' 

'Neither  lord  nor  earl  am  I,  as  sure  as  I  have  a  Christ- 
ian soul  to  be  saved.   My  name  is  — ' 

*Do  not  degrade  yourself  by  unnecessary  falsehood, 
my  lord,  and  that  to  a  single  man,  who,  I  promise  you, 
will  not  invoke  public  justice  to  assist  his  own  good 
sword  should  he  see  cause  to  use  it.  Can  you  look  at  that 
ring  and  deny  that  you  are  Lord  Wilmot? ' 

He  handed  to  the  disguised  prince  a  ring  which  he  took 
from  his  purse,  and  his  opponent  instantly  knew  it  for 
the  same  he  had  dropped  into  AUce's  pitcher  at  the 
fountain,  obeying  only,  though  imprudently,  the  gal- 
lantry of  the  moment,  in  giving  a  pretty  gem  to  a  hand- 
some girl,  whom  he  had  accidentally  frightened. 

*I  know  the  ring,'  he  said;  'it  has  been  in  my  posses- 
sion. How  it  should  prove  me  to  be  Lord  Wilmot,  I  can- 
not conceive;  and  beg  to  say,  it  bears  false  witness 
against  me.' 

'You  shall  see  the  evidence,'  answered  Everard;  and 
resuming  the  ring,  he  pressed  a  spring  ingeniously  con- 
trived in  the  collet  of  the  setting,  on  which  the  stone 
flew  back  and  showed  within  it  the  cipher  of  Lord  Wilmot 

120 


WOODSTOCK 

beau  tif ully  engraved  in  miniature,  with  a  coronet.  '  What 
say  you  now,  sir? ' 

'That  probabilities  are  no  proofs,'  said  the  prince; 
*  there  is  nothing  here  save  what  can  be  easily  accounted 
for.  I  am  the  son  of  a  Scottish  nobleman,  who  was  mor- 
tally wounded  and  made  prisoner  at  Worcester  fight. 
When  he  took  leave,  and  bid  me  fly,  he  gave  me  the  few 
valuables  he  possessed,  and  that  among  others.  I  have 
heard  him  talk  of  having  changed  rings  with  Lord  Wil- 
mot,  on  some  occasion  in  Scotland,  but  I  never  knew  the 
trick  of  the  gem  which  you  have  shown  me.' 

In  this,  it  may  be  necessary  to  say,  Charles  spoke 
very  truly;  nor  would  he  have  parted  with  it  in  the  way 
he  did,  had  he  suspected  it  would  be  easily  recognised. 
He  proceeded  after  a  minute's  pause:  'Once  more,  sir 
—  I  have  told  you  much  that  concerns  my  safety;  if  you 
are  generous,  you  will  let  me  pass,  and  I  may  do  you  on 
some  future  day  as  good  service.  If  you  mean  to  arrest 
me,  you  must  do  so  here,  and  at  your  own  peril,  for  I 
will  neither  walk  farther  your  way  nor  permit  you  to 
dog  me  on  mine.  If  you  let  me  pass,  I  will  thank  you; 
if  not,  take  to  your  weapon.' 

'Young  gentleman,'  said  Colonel  Everard,  'whether 
you  be  actually  the  gay  young  nobleman  for  whom  I 
took  you,  you  have  made  me  uncertain;  but,  intimate  as 
you  say  your  family  has  been  with  him,  I  have  little 
doubt  that  you  are  proficient  in  the  school  of  debauch- 
ery of  which  Wilmot  and  Villiers  are  professors,  and  their 
hopeful  master  a  graduated  student.  Your  conduct  at 
Woodstock,  where  you  have  rewarded  the  hospitality 
of  the  family  by  meditating  the  most  deadly  wound  to 
their  honour,  has  proved  you  too  apt  a  scholar  in  such 

121 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

an  academy.  I  intended  only  to  warn  you  on  this  sub- 
ject; it  will  be  your  own  fault  if  I  add  chastisement  to 
admonition.' 

'Warn  me,  sir!'  said  the  prince,  indignantly,  'and 
chastisement!  This  is  presuming  more  on  my  patience 
than  is  consistent  with  your  own  safety.  Draw,  sir.'  So 
saying,  he  laid  his  hand  on  his  sword. 

'My  religion,'  said  Everard,  'forbids  me  to  be  rash  in 
shedding  blood.  Go  home,  sir —  be  wise  —  consult  the 
dictates  of  honour  as  well  as  prudence.  Respect  the 
honour  of  the  house  of  Lee,  and  know  there  is  one  nearly 
allied  to  it  by  whom  your  motions  will  be  called  to  severe 
account.' 

'Aha!'  said  the  prince,  with  a  bitter  laugh,  *I  see  the 
whole  matter  now:  we  have  our  Roundheaded  colonel, 
our  Puritan  cousin,  before  us  —  the  man  of  texts  and 
morals,  whom  Alice  Lee  laughs  at  so  heartily.  If  your 
religion,  sir,  prevents  you  from  giving  satisfaction,  it 
should  prevent  you  from  offering  insult  to  a  person  of 
honour.' 

The  passions  of  both  were  now  fully  up;  they  drew 
mutually,  and  began  to  fight,  the  colonel  relinquishing 
the  advantage  he  could  have  obtained  by  the  use  of  his 
firearms.  A  thrust  of  the  arm  or  a  slip  of  the  foot  might, 
at  the  moment,  have  changed  the  destinies  of  Britain, 
when  the  arrival  of  a  third  party  broke  off  the  combat. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

Stay!  the  king  hath  thrown  his  warder  down. 


Richard  II. 


The  combatants  whom  we  left  engaged  at  the  end  of  the 
last  chapter  made  mutual  passes  at  each  other  with  ap- 
parently equal  skill  and  courage.  Charles  had  been  too 
often  in  action,  and  too  long  a  party  as  well  as  a  victim 
to  civil  war,  to  find  anything  new  or  surprising  in  being 
obliged  to  defend  himself  with  his  own  hands;  and  Ever- 
ard  had  been  distinguished  as  well  for  his  personal  brav- 
ery as  for  the  other  properties  of  a  commander.  But  the 
arrival  of  a  third  party  prevented  the  tragic  conclusion 
of  a  combat  in  which  the  success  of  either  party  must 
have  given  him  such  cause  for  regretting  his  victory. 

It  was  the  old  knight  himself  who  arrived,  mounted 
upon  a  forest  pony,  for  the  war  and  sequestration  had 
left  him  no  steed  of  a  more  dignified  description.  He 
thrust  himself  between  the  combatants,  and  commanded 
them  on  their  lives  to  hold.  So  soon  as  a  glance  from 
one  to  the  other  had  ascertained  to  him  whom  he  had  to 
deal  with,  he  demanded,  *  Whether  the  devils  of  Wood- 
stock whom  folk  talked  about  had  got  possession  of 
them  both,  that  they  were  tilting  at  each  other  within 
the  verge  of  the  royal  liberties?  Let  me  tell  both  of  you,' 
he  said,  '  that,  while  old  Henry  Lee  is  at  Woodstock,  the 
immunities  of  the  park  shall  be  maintained  as  much  as 
if  the  King  were  still  on  the  throne.  None  shall  fight 
duellos  here,  excepting  the  stags  in  their  season.  Put  up, 

123 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

both  of  you,  or  I  shall  lug  out  as  thirdsman,  and  prove 
perhaps  the  worst  devil  of  the  three.  As  Will  says  — 

I'll  so  maul  you  and  your  toasting-irons, 

That  you  shall  think  the  Devil  has  come  from  Hell.' 

The  combatants  desisted  from  their  encounter,  but 
stood  looking  at  each  other  sullenly,  as  men  do  in  such 
a  situation,  each  unwilling  to  seem  to  desire  peace  more 
than  the  other,  and  averse  therefore  to  be  the  first  to 
sheathe  his  sword. 

'Return  your  weapons,  gentlemen,  upon  the  spot,' 
said  the  knight  yet  more  peremptorily,  'one  and  both  of 
you,  or  you  will  have  something  to  do  with  me,  I  prom- 
ise you.  You  may  be  thankful  times  are  changed.  I 
have  known  them  such,  that  your  insolence  might  have 
cost  each  of  you  your  right  hand,  if  not  redeemed  with  a 
round  sum  of  money.  Nephew,  if  you  do  not  mean  to 
ahenate  me  for  ever,  I  command  you  to  put  up.  Mas- 
ter Kerneguy,  you  are  my  guest.  I  request  of  you  not 
to  do  me  the  insult  of  remaining  with  your  sword  drawn, 
where  it  is  my  duty  to  see  peace  observed.' 

*I  obey  you,  Sir  Henry,'  said  the  King,  sheathing  his 
rapier.  '  I  hardly  indeed  know  wherefore  I  was  assaulted 
by  this  gentleman.  I  assure  you,  none  respects  the 
King's  person  or  privileges  more  than  myself,  though 
the  devotion  is  somewhat  out  of  fashion.' 

'We  may  find  a  place  to  meet,  sir,'  repHed  Everard, 
'where  neither  the  royal  person  nor  privileges  can  be 
offended.' 

'Faith,  very  hardly,  sir,'  said  Charles,  unable  to  sup- 
press the  rising  jest  —  'I  mean,  the  King  has  so  few  fol- 
lowers, that  the  loss  of  the  least  of  them  might  be  some 

124 


WOODSTOCK 

small  damage  to  him;  but,  risking  all  that,  I  will  meet 
you  wherever  there  is  fair  field  for  a  poor  Cavalier  to  get 
ofif  in  safety,  if  he  has  the  luck  in  fight.' 

Sir  Henry  Lee's  first  idea  had  been  fixed  upon  the  in- 
sult oflfered  to  the  royal  demesne;  he  now  began  to  turn 
them  towards  the  safety  of  his  kinsman,  and  of  the 
young  Royalist,  as  he  deemed  him.  'Gentlemen,'  he 
said,  'I  must  insist  on  this  business  being  put  to  a  final 
end.  Nephew  Markham,  is  this  your  return  for  my  con- 
descension in  coming  back  to  Woodstock  on  your  war- 
rant, that  you  should  take  an  opportunity  to  cut  the 
throat  of  my  guest?' 

'If  you  knew  his  purpose  as  well  as  I  do — '  said 
Markham,  and  then  paused,  conscious  that  he  might 
only  incense  his  uncle  without  convincing  him,  as  any- 
thing he  might  say  of  Kerneguy's  addresses  to  AHce  was 
likely  to  be  imputed  to  his  own  jealous  suspicions;  he 
looked  on  the  ground,  therefore,  and  was  silent. 

'And  you.  Master  Kerneguy,'  said  Sir  Henry,  'can 
you  give  me  any  reason  why  you  seek  to  take  the  life  of 
this  young  man,  in  whom,  though  unhappily  forgetful 
of  his  loyalty  and  duty,  I  must  yet  take  some  interest,  as 
my  nephew  by  affinity? ' 

'I  was  not  aware  the  gentleman  enjoyed  that  honour, 
which  certainly  would  have  protected  him  from  my 
sword,'  answered  Kerneguy.  'But  the  quarrel  is  his; 
nor  can  I  tell  any  reason  why  he  fixed  it  upon  me,  unless 
it  were  the  difference  of  our  political  opinions.' 

'You  know  the  contrary,'  said  Everard:  'you  know 
that  I  told  you  you  were  safe  from  me  as  a  fugitive  Roy- 
alist; and  your  last  words  showed  you  were  at  no  loss  to 
guess  my  connexion  with  Sir  Henry.  That,  indeed,  is  of 

125 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

little  consequence.  I  should  debase  myself  did  I  use  the 
relationship  as  a  means  of  protection  from  you  or  any 
one.' 

As  they  thus  disputed,  neither  choosing  to  approach 
the  real  cause  of  quarrel,  Sir  Henry  looked  from  the  one 
to  the  other  with  a  peacemaking  countenance,  exclaim- 
ing— 

'Why,  what  an  intricate  impeach  is  this? 
I  think  you  both  have  drunk  of  Circe's  cup. 

Come,  my  young  masters,  allow  an  old  man  to  mediate 
between  you.  I  am  not  short-sighted  in  such  matters. 
The  mother  of  mischief  is  no  bigger  than  a  gnat's  wing; 
and  I  have  known  fifty  instances  in  my  own  day,  when, 
as  Will  says  — 

Gallants  have  been  confronted  hardily, 
In  single  opposition,  hand  to  hand, 

in  which,  after  the  field  was  fought,  no  one  could  remem- 
ber the  cause  of  quarrel.  Tush !  a  small  thing  will  do  it 
—  the  taking  of  the  wall,  or  the  gentle  rub  of  the  shoulder 
in  passing  each  other,  or  a  hasty  word,  or  a  misconceived 
gesture.  Come,  forget  your  cause  of  quarrel,  be  what  it 
will;  you  have  had  your  breathing,  and  though  you  put 
up  your  rapiers  unbloodied,  that  was  no  default  of  yours, 
but  by  command  of  your  elder,  and  one  who  had  right 
to  use  authority.  In  Malta,  where  the  duello  is  punc- 
tihously  well  understood,  the  persons  engaged  in  a  single 
combat  are  bound  to  halt  on  the  command  of  a  knight, 
or  priest,  or  lady,  and  the  quarrel  so  interrupted  is  held 
as  honourably  terminated,  and  may  not  be  revived. 
Nephew,  it  is,  I  think,  impossible  that  you  can  nourish 
spleen  against  this  young  gentleman  for  having  fought 

126 


WOODSTOCK 

for  his  king.  Hear  my  honest  proposal,  Markham.  You 
know  I  bear  no  malice,  though  I  have  some  reason  to  be 
offended  with  you.  Give  the  young  man  your  hand  in 
friendship,  and  we  will  back  to  the  lodge,  all  three  to- 
gether, and  drink  a  cup  of  sack  in  token  of  reconciliation.' 

Markham  Everard  found  himself  unable  to  resist  this 
approach  towards  kindness  on  his  uncle's  part.  He  sus- 
pected, indeed,  what  was  partly  the  truth,  that  it  was 
not  entirely  from  reviving  good- will,  but  also,  that  his 
uncle  thought,  by  such  attention,  to  secure  his  neutral- 
ity at  least,  if  not  his  assistance,  for  the  safety  of  the 
fugitive  Royalist.  He  was  sensible  that  he  was  placed 
in  an  awkward  predicament;  and  that  he  might  incur  the 
suspicions  of  his  own  party,  for  holding  intercourse  even 
with  a  near  relation  who  harboured  such  guests.  But, 
on  the  other  hand,  he  thought  his  services  to  the  Com- 
monwealth had  been  of  sufficient  importance  to  out- 
weigh whatever  envy  might  urge  on  that  topic.  Indeed, 
although  the  Civil  War  had  divided  families  much,  and 
in  many  various  ways,  yet,  when  it  seemed  ended  by  the 
triumph  of  the  republicans,  the  rage  of  political  hatred 
began  to  relent,  and  the  ancient  ties  of  kindred  and 
friendship  regained  at  least  a  part  of  their  former  influ- 
ence. Many  reunions  were  formed;  and  those  who,  like 
Everard,  adhered  to  the  conquering  party,  often  exerted 
themselves  for  the  protection  of  their  deserted  relatives. 

As  these  things  rushed  through  his  mind,  accompa- 
nied with  the  prospect  of  a  renewed  intercourse  with 
Alice  Lee,  by  means  of  which  he  might  be  at  hand  to 
protect  her  against  every  chance  either  of  injury  or  in- 
sult, he  held  out  his  hand  to  the  supposed  Scottish  page, 
saying  at  the  same  time,  'That,  for  his  part,  he  was  very 

127 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

ready  to  forget  the  cause  of  quarrel,  or  rather,  to  con- 
sider it  as  arising  out  of  a  misapprehension,  and  to  offer 
Master  Kerneguy  such  friendship  as  might  exist  be- 
tween honourable  men  who  had  embraced  different 
sides  in  politics.' 

Unable  to  overcome  the  feeling  of  personal  dignity, 
which  prudence  recommended  to  him  to  forget,  Louis 
Kerneguy  in  return  bowed  low,  but  without  accepting 
Everard's  proffered  hand. 

*He  had  no  occasion,'  he  said,  'to  make  any  exertions 
to  forget  the  cause  of  quarrel,  for  he  had  never  been  able 
to  comprehend  it;  but,  as  he  had  not  shunned  the  gentle- 
man's resentment,  so  he  was  now  willing  to  embrace 
and  return  any  degree  of  his  favour  with  which  he  might 
be  pleased  to  honour  him.' 

Everard  withdrew  his  hand  with  a  smile,  and  bowed 
in  return  to  the  salutation  of  the  page,  whose  stiff  recep- 
tion of  his  advances  he  imputed  to  the  proud,  pettish 
disposition  of  a  Scotch  boy,  trained  up  in  extravagant 
ideas  of  family  consequence  and  personal  importance, 
which  his  acquaintance  with  the  world  had  not  yet  been 
sufficient  to  dispel. 

Sir  Henry  Lee,  delighted  with  the  termination  of  the 
quarrel,  which  he  supposed  to  be  in  deep  deference  to  his 
own  authority,  and  not  displeased  with  the  opportunity 
of  renewing  some  acquaintance  with  his  nephew,  who 
had,  notwithstanding  his  political  demerits,  a  warmer 
interest  in  his  affections  than  he  was,  perhaps,  himself 
aware  of,  said,  in  a  tone  of  consolation,  'Never  be  morti- 
fied, young  gentlemen.  I  protest  it  went  to  my  heart  to 
part  you,  when  I  saw  you  stretching  yourselves  so  hand- 
somely, and  in  fair  love  of  honour,  without  any  malicious 

128 


WOODSTOCK 

or  bloodthirsty  thoughts.  I  promise  you,  had  it  not  been 
for  my  duty  as  ranger  here,  and  sworn  to  the  office,  I 
would  rather  have  been  your  umpire  than  your  hin- 
derance.  But  a  finished  quarrel  is  a  forgotten  quarrel; 
and  your  tilting  should  have  no  further  consequence 
excepting  the  appetite  it  may  have  given  you.' 

So  saying,  he  urged  forward  his  pony,  and  moved  in 
triumph  towards  the  lodge  by  the  nearest  alley.  His 
feet  almost  touching  the  ground,  the  ball  of  his  toe  Just 
resting  in  the  stirrup,  the  forepart  of  the  thigh  brought 
round  to  the  saddle,  the  heels  turned  outwards,  and  sunk 
as  much  as  possible,  his  body  precisely  erect,  the  reins 
properly  and  systematically  divided  in  his  left  hand,  his 
right  holding  a  riding-rod  diagonally  pointed  towards  the 
horse's  left  ear,  he  seemed  a  champion  of  the  menage,  fit 
to  have  reined  Bucephalus  himself.  His  youthful  compan- 
ions, who  attended  on  either  hand  like  equerries,  could 
scarce  suppress  a  smile  at  the  completely  adjusted  and 
systematic  posture  of  the  rider,  contrasted  with  the  wild 
and  diminutive  appearance  of  the  pony,  with  its  shaggy 
coat,  and  long  tail  and  mane,  and  its  keen  eyes  spark- 
ling like  red  coals  from  amongst  the  mass  of  hair  which 
fell  over  its  small  countenance.  If  the  reader  has  the 
Duke  of  Newcastle's  book  on  horsemanship  (splendida 
moles  I)  he  may  have  some  idea  of  the  figure  of  the  good 
knight,  if  he  can  conceive  such  a  figure  as  one  of  the  cav- 
aliers there  represented,  seated,  in  all  the  graces  of  his 
art,  on  a  Welsh  or  Exmoor  pony,  in  its  native  savage 
state,  without  grooming  or  discipline  of  any  kind,  the 
ridicule  being  greatly  enhanced  by  the  disproportion  of 
size  betwixt  the  animal  and  its  rider. 

Perhaps  the  knight  saw  their  wonder,  for  the  first 
38  129 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

words  he  said  after  they  left  the  ground  were,  'Pixie, 
though  small,  is  mettlesome,  gentlemen  (here  he  con- 
trived that  Pixie  should  himself  corroborate  the  asser- 
tion, by  executing  a  gambade)  —  he  is  diminutive,  but 
full  of  spirit;  indeed,  save  that  I  am  somewhat  too  large 
for  an  elfin  horseman  (the  knight  was  upwards  of  six 
feet  high),  I  should  remind  myself,  when  I  mount  him, 
of  the  Fairy  King,  as  described  by  Mike  Drayton: 

Himself  he  on  an  earwig  set, 

Yet  scarce  upon  his  back  could  get, 

So  oft  and  high  he  did  curvet, 

Ere  he  himself  did  settle. 
He  made  him  stop,  and  turn,  and  bound, 
To  gallop,  and  to  trot  the  round. 
He  scarce  could  stand  on  any  ground, 

He  was  so  full  of  mettle.' 

*My  old  friend,  PLxie!'  said  Everard,  stroking  the 
pony's  neck,  'I  am  glad  that  he  has  survived  all  these 
busthng  days.  PLxie  must  be  above  twenty  years  old, 
Sir  Henry? ' 

'Above  twenty  years,  certainly.  Yes,  nephew  Mark- 
ham,  war  is  a  whirlwind  in  a  plantation,  which  only 
spares  what  is  least  worth  lea\'ing.  Old  Pixie  and  his  old 
master  have  survived  many  a  tall  fellow  and  many  a 
great  horse,  neither  of  them  good  for  much  themselves. 
Yet,  as  Will  says,  an  old  man  can  do  somewhat.  So 
PLxie  and  I  still  survive.' 

So  saying,  he  again  contrived  that  PLxie  should  show 
some  remnants  of  activity. 

'Still  survive!'  said  the  young  Scot,  completing  the 
sentence  which  the  good  knight  had  left  unfinished  — 
'ay,  still  survive, 

To  witch  the  world  with  noble  horsemanship.' 
130 


WOODSTOCK 

Everard  coloured,  for  he  felt  the  irony;  but  not  so  his 
uncle,  whose  simple  vanity  never  permitted  him  to 
doubt  the  sincerity  of  the  compliment. 

'Are  you  avised  of  that?'  he  said.  'In  King  James's 
time,  indeed,  I  have  appeared  in  the  tilt-yard,  and  there 
you  might  have  said  — 

You  saw  young  Harry  with  his  beaver  up. 

As  to  seeing  old  Harry,  why  — '  Here  the  knight  paused, 
and  looked  as  a  bashful  man  in  labour  of  a  pun.  'As  to 
old  Harry  —  why,  you  might  as  well  see  the  De^oil .  You 
take  me.  Master  Kerneguy:  the  Devil,  you  know,  is  my 
namesake  —  ha  —  ha  —  ha!  Cousin  Everard,  I  hope 
your  precision  is  not  startled  by  an  innocent  jest? ' 

He  was  so  delighted  with  the  applause  of  both  of  his 
companions,  that  he  recited  the  whole  of  the  celebrated 
passage  referred  to,  and  concluded  with  defpng  the 
present  age,  bundle  all  its  wits,  Donne,  Cowley,  Waller, 
and  the  rest  of  them  together,  to  produce  a  poet  of  a 
tenth  part  of  the  genius  of  old  Will. 

'Why,  we  are  said  to  have  one  of  his  descendants 
among  us  —  Sir  William  D'Avenant,'  said  Louis  Kerne- 
guy; 'and  many  think  him  as  clever  a  fellow.' 

'What!'  exclaimed  Sir  Henry.  'Will  D'Avenant, 
whom  I  knew  in  the  North,  an  officer  under  Newcastle, 
when  the  Marquis  lay  before  Hull?  Why,  he  was  an 
honest  Cavalier,  and  wrote  good  doggerel  enough;  but 
how  came  he  akin  to  Will  Shakespeare,  I  trow? ' 

'Why,'  replied  the  young  Scot,  'by  the  surer  side  of 
the  house,  and  after  the  old  fashion,  if  D'Avenant  speaks 
truth.  It  seems  that  his  mother  was  a  good-looking, 
laughing,  buxom  mistress  of  an  inn  between  Stratford 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

and  London,  at  which  Will  Shakespeare  often  quartered 
as  he  went  down  to  his  native  town,  and  that,  out  of 
friendship  and  gossipred,  as  we  say  in  Scotland,  Will 
Shakespeare  became  godfather  to  Will  D'Avenant;  and 
not  contented  with  this  spiritual  affinity,  the  younger 
Will  is  for  establishing  some  claim  to  a  natural  one,  al- 
leging that  his  mother  was  a  great  admirer  of  wit,  and 
there  were  no  bounds  to  her  complaisance  for  men  of 
genius.'^ 

'Out  upon  the  hound!'  said  Colonel  Everard;  'would 
he  purchase  the  reputation  of  descending  from  poet,  or 
from  prince,  at  the  expense  of  his  mother's  good  fame? 
His  nose  ought  to  be  slit.' 

'That  would  be  difficult,'  answered  the  disguised 
prince,  recollecting  the  peculiarity  of  the  bard's  coim- 
tenance.^ 

'Will  D'Avenant  the  son  of  Will  Shakespeare!'  said 
the  knight,  who  had  not  yet  recovered  his  surprise  at  the 
enormity  of  the  pretension;  'why,  it  reminds  me  of  a 
verse  in  the  puppet-show  of  "  Phaeton,"  where  the  hero 
complains  to  his  mother  — 

Besides,  by  all  the  village  boys  I'm  sham'd; 
You  the  Sun's  son,  you  rascal,  you  be  d — d! ' 

I  never  heard  such  unblushing  assurance  in  my  life! 
Will  D'Avenant  the  son  of  the  brightest  and  best  poet 
that  ever  was,  is,  or  will  be!  But  I  crave  your  pardon, 
nephew.  You,  I  believe,  love  no  stage  plays.' 

'Nay,  I  am  not  altogether  so  precise  as  you  would 

^  See  Note  2. 

^  D'Avenantactually  wanted  the  nose,  the  foundation  of  many  a  jest 
of  the  day. 
^  See  Note  3. 

132 


WOODSTOCK 

make  me,  uncle.  I  have  loved  them  perhaps  too  well  in 
my  time,  and  now  I  condemn  them  not  altogether,  or  in 
gross,  though  I  approve  not  their  excesses  and  extrava- 
gances. I  cannot,  even  in  Shakespeare,  but  see  many 
things  both  scandalous  to  decency  and  prejudicial  to 
good  manners  —  many  things  which  tend  to  ridicule 
virtue,  or  to  recommend  vice,  at  least  to  mitigate  the 
hideousness  of  its  features.  I  cannot  think  these  fine 
poems  are  a  useful  study,  and  especially  for  the  youth 
of  either  sex,  in  which  bloodshed  is  pointed  out  as  the 
chief  occupation  of  the  men,  and  intrigue  as  the  sole  em- 
ployment of  the  women.' 

In  making  these  observations,  Everard  was  simple 
enough  to  think  that  he  was  only  giving  his  uncle  an 
opportunity  of  defending  a  favourite  opinion,  without 
offending  him  by  a  contradiction  which  was  so  limited 
and  mitigated.  But  here,  as  on  other  occasions,  he  for- 
got how  obstinate  his  uncle  was  in  his  views,  whether 
of  religion,  policy,  or  taste,  and  that  it  would  be  as  easy 
to  convert  him  to  the  Presbyterian  form  of  government, 
or  engage  him  to  take  the  abjuration  oath,  as  to  shake 
his  belief  in  Shakespeare.  There  was  another  peculiar- 
ity in  the  good  knight's  mode  of  arguing,  which  Everard, 
being  himself  of  a  plain  and  downright  character,  and 
one  whose  religious  tenets  were  in  some  degree  unfav- 
ourable to  the  suppressions  and  simulations  often  used 
in  society,  could  never  perfectly  understand.  Sir  Henry, 
sensible  of  his  natural  heat  of  temper,  was  wont  scrupu- 
lously to  guard  against  it,  and  would  for  some  time, 
when  in  fact  much  offended,  conduct  a  debate  with  all 
the  external  appearance  of  composure,  till  the  violence 
of  his  feehngs  would  rise  so  high  as  to  overcome  and 

133 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

bear  away  the  artificial  barriers  opposed  to  it,  and  rush 
down  upon  the  adversary  with  accumulating  wrath.  It 
thus  frequently  happened  that,  like  a  wily  old  general, 
he  retreated  in  the  face  of  his  disputant  in  good  order 
and  by  degrees,  with  so  moderate  a  degree  of  resistance 
as  to  draw  on  his  antagonist's  pursuit  to  the  spot  where, 
at  length,  making  a  sudden  and  unexpected  attack,  with 
horse,  foot,  and  artillery  at  once,  he  seldom  failed  to 
confound  the  enemy,  though  he  might  not  overthrow 
him. 

It  was  on  this  principle,  therefore,  that,  hearing 
Everard's  last  observation,  he  disguised  his  angry  feel- 
ings, and  answered,  with  a  tone  where  politeness  was 
called  in  to  keep  guard  upon  passion, '  That  undoubtedly 
the  Presbyterian  gentry  had  given,  through  the  whole 
of  these  unhappy  times,  such  proofs  of  an  humble,  un- 
aspiring, and  unambitious  desire  of  the  public  good  as 
entitled  them  to  general  credit  for  the  sincerity  of  those 
very  strong  scruples  which  they  entertained  against 
works  in  which  the  noblest  sentiments  of  religion  and 
virtue  —  sentiments  which  might  convert  hardened  sin- 
ners, and  be  placed  with  propriety  in  the  mouths  of 
dying  saints  and  martyrs  —  happened,  from  the  rude- 
ness and  coarse  taste  of  the  times,  to  be  mixed  with 
some  broad  jests  and  similar  matter,  which  lay  not  much 
in  the  way,  excepting  of  those  who  painfully  sought  such 
stuff  out,  that  they  might  use  it  in  vilifying  what  was  in 
itself  deserving  of  the  highest  applause.  But  what  he 
wished  especially  to  know  from  his  nephew  was,  whether 
any  of  those  gifted  men  who  had  expelled  the  learned 
scholars  and  deep  divines  of  the  Church  of  England  from 
the  pulpit,  and  now  flourished  in  their  stead,  received 

134 


WOODSTOCK 

any  inspiration  from  the  muses,  if  he  might  use  so 
profane  a  term  without  offence  to  Colonel  Everard,  or 
whether  they  were  not  as  sottishly  and  brutally  averse 
from  elegant  letters  as  they  were  from  humanity  and 
common  sense? ' 

Colonel  Everard  might  have  guessed,  by  the  ironical 
tone  in  which  this  speech  was  dehvered,  what  storm  was 
mustering  within  his  uncle's  bosom  —  nay,  he  might 
have  conjectured  the  state  of  the  old  knight's  feelings 
from  his  emphasis  on  the  word  'colonel,'  by  which  epi- 
thet, as  that  which  most  connected  his  nephew  with  the 
party  he  hated,  he  never  distinguished  Everard  unless 
when  his  wrath  was  rising;  while,  on  the  contrary,  when 
disposed  to  be  on  good  terms  with  him,  he  usually  called 
him  Kinsman,  or  Nephew  Markham.  Indeed,  it  was 
under  a  partial  sense  that  this  was  the  case,  and  in  the 
hope  to  see  his  cousin  Alice,  that  the  colonel  forbore 
making  any  answer  to  the  harangue  of  his  uncle,  which 
had  concluded  just  as  the  old  knight  had  alighted  at  the 
door  of  the  lodge,  and  was  entering  the  hall,  followed  by 
his  two  attendants. 

Phoebe  at  the  same  time  made  her  appearance  in  the 
hall,  and  received  orders  to  bring  some  'beverage'  for 
the  gentlemen.  The  Hebe  of  Woodstock  failed  not  to 
recognise  and  welcome  Everard  by  an  almost  imper- 
ceptible curtsy;  but  she  did  not  serve  his  interest,  as 
she  designed,  when  she  asked  the  knight,  as  a  question 
of  course,  whether  he  commanded  the  attendance  of 
Mistress  Alice.  A  stern  'No,'  was  the  decided  reply;  and 
the  ill-timed  interference  seemed  to  increase  his  previous 
irritation  against  Everard  for  his  depreciation  of  Shake- 
speare.   *I  would  insist,'  said  Sir  Henry,  resuming  the 

135 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

obnoxious  subject,  'were  it  fit  for  a  poor  disbanded 
Cavalier  to  use  such  a  phrase  towards  a  commander  of 
the  conquering  army,  upon  knowing  whether  the  con- 
vulsion which  has  sent  us  saints  and  prophets  without 
end  has  not  also  afforded  us  a  poet  with  enough  both  of 
gifts  and  grace  to  outshine  poor  old  Will,  the  oracle  and 
idol  of  us  blinded  and  carnal  Cavaliers? ' 

'Surely,  sir,'  replied  Colonel  Everard,  'I  know  verses 
written  by  a  friend  of  the  Commonwealth,  and  those, 
too,  of  a  dramatic  character,  which,  weighed  in  an  im- 
partial scale,  might  equal  even  the  poetry  of  Shakespeare, 
and  which  are  free  from  the  fustian  and  indelicacy  with 
which  that  great  bard  was  sometimes  content  to  feed  the 
coarse  appetites  of  his  barbarous  audience.' 

'Indeed!'  said  the  km'ght,  keeping  down  his  wrath 
with  difficulty.  'I  should  like  to  be  acquainted  with  this 
masterpiece  of  poetry!  May  we  ask  the  name  of  this 
distinguished  person? ' 

'It  must  be  Vicars  or  Withers  at  least,'  said  the 
feigned  page. 

'No,  sir,'  replied  Everard,  'nor  Drummond  of  Haw- 
thornden,  nor  Lord  Stirling  neither.  And  yet  the  verses 
will  vindicate  what  I  say,  if  you  will  make  allowance  for 
indiiTerent  recitation,  for  I  am  better  accustomed  to 
speak  to  a  battalion  than  to  those  who  love  the  muses. 
The  speaker  is  a  lady  benighted,  who,  having  lost  her 
way  in  a  pathless  forest,  at  first  expresses  herself  agi- 
tated by  the  supernatural  fears  to  which  her  situation 
gave  rise.' 

'A  play,  too,  and  written  by  a  Roundhead  author!' 
said  Sir  Henry  in  surprise. 

'A  dramatic  production  at  least,'  replied  his  nephew; 
136 


WOODSTOCK 

and  began  to  recite  simply,  but  with  feeling,  the  lines 
now  so  well  known,  but  which  had  then  obtained  no 
celebrity,  the  fame  of  the  author  resting  upon  the  basis 
rather  of  his  polemical  and  political  publications  than  on 
the  poetry  doomed  in  after  days  to  support  the  eternal 
structure  of  his  immortality. 

*  These  thoughts  may  startle,  but  will  not  astound 
The  virtuous  mind,  that  ever  walks  attended 
By  a  strong  siding  champion,  Conscience.' 

*My  own  opinion,  nephew  Markham  —  my  own  opin- 
ion,' said  Sir  Henry,  with  a  burst  of  admiration  —  'bet- 
ter expressed,  but  just  what  I  said  when  the  scoimdrelly 
Roundheads  pretended  to  see  ghosts  at  Woodstock. 
Goon,  I  prithee.' 

Everard  proceeded : 

*0  welcome,  pure-eyed  Faith,  white-handed  Hope, 
Thou  hovering  angel,  girt  with  golden  wings, 
And  thou  unblemish'd  form  of  Chastity! 
I  see  ye  visibly,  and  now  believe 
That  he  the  Supreme  Good,  to  whom  all  things  ill 
Are  but  as  slavish  officers  of  vengeance, 
Would  send  a  glistering  guardian,  if  need  were, 
To  keep  my  life  and  honour  unassail'd. 
Was  I  deceived,  or  did  a  sable  cloud 
Turn  forth  her  silver  lining  on  the  night? 

The  rest  has  escaped  me,'  said  the  reciter;  'and  I  marvel 
I  have  been  able  to  remember  so  much.' 

Sir  Henry  Lee,  who  had  expected  some  effusion  very 
different  from  those  classical  and  beautiful  lines,  soon 
changed  the  scornful  expression  of  his  countenance, 
relaxed  his  contorted  upper  lips  and,  stroking  down  his 
beard  with  his  left  hand,  rested  the  forefinger  of  the 

137 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

right  upon  his  eyebrow,  in  sign  of  profound  attention. 
After  Everard  had  ceased  speaking,  the  old  man  sighed 
as  at  the  end  of  a  strain  of  sweet  music.  He  then  spoke 
in  a  gentler  manner  than  formerly. 

'  Cousin  Markham,'  he  said,  *  these  verses  flow  sweetly, 
and  sound  in  my  ears  like  the  well-touched  warbHng  of 
a  lute.  But  thou  knowest  I  am  something  slow  of  ap- 
prehending the  full  meaning  of  that  which  I  hear  for 
the  first  time.  Repeat  me  these  verses  again,  slowly 
and  deUberately;  for  I  always  love  to  hear  poetry, 
twice  the  first  time  for  sound,  and  the  latter  time  for 
sense.' 

Thus  encouraged,  Everard  recited  again  the  lines, 
with  more  hardihood  and  better  effect;  the  knight  dis- 
tinctly understanding,  and,  from  his  looks  and  mo- 
tions, highly  applauding,  them. 

*  Yes,'  he  broke  out,  when  Everard  was  again  silent  — 
*yes,  I  do  call  that  poetry,  though  it  were  even  written 
by  a  Presbyterian,  or  an  Anabaptist  either.  Ay,  there 
were  good  and  righteous  people  to  be  found  even 
amongst  the  offending  towns  which  were  destroyed  by 
fire.  And  certainly  I  have  heard,  though  with  Httle 
credence  —  begging  your  pardon,  cousin  Everard  — 
that  there  are  men  among  you  who  have  seen  the  error 
of  their  ways  in  rebelling  against  the  best  and  kindest  of 
masters,  and  bringing  it  to  that  pass  that  he  was  mur- 
dered by  a  gang  yet  fiercer  than  themselves.  Ay,  doubt- 
less the  gentleness  of  spirit  and  the  purity  of  mind  which 
dictated  those  beautiful  lines  has  long  ago  taught  a  man 
so  amiable  to  say,  "I  have  sinned  —  I  have  sinned." 
Yes,  I  doubt  not  so  sweet  a  harp  has  been  broken,  even 
in  remorse,  for  the  crimes  he  was  witness  to;  and  now  he 

138 


WOODSTOCK 

sits  drooping  for  the  shame  and  sorrow  of  England,  all 
his  noble  rhymes,  as  Will  says,  — 

Like  sweet  bells  jangled,  out  of  tune  and  harsh. 

Dost  thou  not  think  so,  Master  Kerneguy?' 

'Not  I,  Sir  Henry,'  answered  the  page,  somewhat 
maUciously. 

'  What,  dost  not  believe  the  author  of  these  lines  must 
needs  be  of  the  better  file,  and  leaning  to  our  persuasion? ' 

'I  think.  Sir  Henrys  that  the  poetry  qualifies  the 
author  to  write  a  play  on  the  subject  of  Dame  Potiphar 
and  her  recusant  lover;  and  as  for  his  calling  —  that  last 
metaphor  of  the  cloud  in  a  black  coat  or  cloak,  with  sil- 
ver lining,  would  have  dubbed  him  a  tailor  with  me,  only 
that  I  happen  to  know  that  he  is  a  schoolmaster  by  pro- 
fession, and  by  pohtical  opinions  qualified  to  be  Poet 
Laureate  to  Cromwell;  for  what  Colonel  Everard  has 
repeated  with  such  unction  is  the  production  of  no  less 
celebrated  a  person  than  John  Milton.' 

'John  Milton! '  exclaimed  Sir  Henry,  in  astonishment. 
'What!  John  Milton,  the  blasphemous  and  bloody- 
minded  author  of  the  "Defensio  Populi  Anglicani!"  — 
the  advocate  of  the  infernal  High  Court  of  Fiends!  — 
the  creature  and  parasite  of  that  grand  impostor,  that 
loathsome  h>-pocrite,  that  detestable  monster,  that 
prodigy  of  the  universe,  that  disgrace  of  mankind,  that 
landscape  of  iniquity,  that  sink  of  sin,  and  that  compen- 
dium of  baseness,  Oliver  Cromwell?' 

'Even  the  same  John  Milton,'  answered  Charles  — 
'schoolmaster  to  little  boys,  and  tailor  to  the  clouds, 
which  he  furnishes  with  suits  of  black,  lined  with  silver, 
at  no  other  expense  than  that  of  common  sense.' 

139 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'Markham  Everard/  said  the  old  knight,  'I  will  never 
forgive  thee  —  never  —  never.  Thou  hast  made  me 
speak  words  of  praise  respecting  one  whose  offal  should 
fatten  the  region-kites.  Speak  not  to  me,  sir,  but  begone. 
Am  I,  your  kinsman  and  benefactor,  a  fit  person  to  be 
juggled  out  of  my  commendation  and  eulogy,  and 
brought  to  bedaub  such  a  whitened  sepulchre  as  the 
sophist  Milton?' 

*I  profess,'  said  Everard,  'this  is  hard  measure.  Sir 
Henry.  You  pressed  me  —  you  defied  me,  to  produce 
poetry  as  good  as  Shakespeare's.  I  only  thought  of  the 
verses,  not  of  the  politics  of  Milton.' 

*0h  yes,  sir,'  replied  Sir  Henry,  'we  well  know  your 
power  of  making  distinctions:  you  could  make  war 
against  the  King's  prerogative,  without  having  the  least 
design  against  his  person.  Oh  Heaven  forbid!  But 
Heaven  will  hear  and  judge  you.  Set  down  the  beverage, 
Phoebe  (this  was  added  by  way  of  parenthesis  to  Phoebe, 
who  entered  with  refreshment).  Colonel  Everard  is  not 
thirsty.  You  have  wiped  your  mouths,  and  said  you 
have  done  no  evil.  But  though  you  have  deceived  man, 
yet  God  you  cannot  deceive.  And  you  shall  wipe  no 
lips  in  Woodstock,  either  after  meat  or  drink,  I  promise 
you.' 

Charged  thus  at  once  with  the  faults  imputed  to  his 
whole  religious  sect  and  political  party,  Everard  felt  too 
late  of  what  imprudence  he  had  been  guilty  in  giving 
the  opening,  by  disputing  his  uncle's  taste  in  dramatic 
poetry.  He  endeavoured  to  explain,  to  apologise. 

'I  mistook  your  purpose,  honoured  sir,  and  thought 
you  really  desired  to  know  something  of  our  literature; 
and  in  repeating  what  you  deemed  not  unworthy  your 

140 


WOODSTOCK 

hearing,  I  profess  I  thought  I  was  doing  you  pleasure, 
instead  of  stirring  your  indignation.' 

*0  ay!'  returned  the  knight,  with  unmitigated  rigour 
of  resentment  —  'profess  —  profess.  Ay,  that  is  the 
new  phrase  of  asseveration,  instead  of  the  profane  ad- 
juration of  courtiers  and  Cavaliers.  Oh,  sir,  profess  less 
and  practise  more,  and  so  good-day  to  you.  Master 
Kemeguy,  you  will  find  beverage  in  my  apartment.' 

While  Phoebe  stood  gaping  in  admiration  at  the  sud- 
den quarrel  which  had  arisen.  Colonel  Everard's  vexa- 
tion and  resentment  was  not  a  little  increased  by  the 
nonchalance  of  the  young  Scotsman,  who,  with  his  hands 
thrust  into  his  pockets  with  a  courtly  affectation  of  the 
time,  had  thrown  himself  into  one  of  the  antique  chairs, 
and,  though  habitually  too  polite  to  laugh  aloud,  and 
possessing  that  art  of  internal  laughter  by  which  men 
of  the  world  learn  to  indulge  their  mirth  without  incur- 
ring quarrels  or  giving  direct  ofifence,  was  at  no  particu- 
lar trouble  to  conceal  that  he  was  exceedingly  amused 
by  the  result  of  the  colonel's  visit  to  Woodstock.  Colonel 
Everard's  patience,  however,  had  reached  bounds  which 
it  was  very  likely  to  surpass;  for,  though  differing  widely 
in  politics,  there  was  a  resemblance  betwixt  the  temper 
of  the  uncle  and  nephew. 

'Damnation! '  exclaimed  the  colonel,  in  a  tone  which 
became  a  Puritan  as  little  as  did  the  exclamation  itself. 

'Amen!'  said  Louis  Kerneguy,  but  in  a  tone  so  soft 
and  gentle,  that  the  ejaculation  seemed  rather  to  escape 
him  than  to  be  designedly  uttered. 

'Sir!'  said  Everard,  striding  towards  him  in  that  sort 
of  humour  when  a  man,  full  of  resentment,  would  not 
unwillingly  find  an  object  on  which  to  discharge  it. 

141 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

*Plait-il?^  said  the  page,  in  the  most  equable  tone, 
looking  up  in  his  face  with  the  most  unconscious  inno- 
cence. 

'I  wish  to  know,  sir,'  retorted  Everard,  '  the  meaning 
of  that  which  you  said  just  now  ? ' 

'Only  a  pouring  out  of  the  spirit,  worthy  sir, '  returned 
Kerneguy  —  *  a  small  skiff  despatched  to  Heaven  on 
my  own  accoimt  to  keep  company  with  your  holy 
petition  Just  now  expressed.' 

'Sir,  I  have  known  a  merry  gentleman's  bones 
broke  for  such  a  smile  as  you  wear  just  now,'  replied 
Everard. 

*  There,  look  you  now ! '  answered  the  malicious  page, 
who  could  not  weigh  even  the  thoughts  of  his  safety 
against  the  enjoyment  of  his  jest.  '  If  you  had  stuck  to 
your  professions,  worthy  sir,  you  must  have  choked  by 
this  time;  but  your  round  execration  bolted  like  a  cork 
from  a  bottle  of  cider,  and  now  allows  your  wrath  to 
come  foaming  out  after  it,  in  the  honest  unbaptized 
language  of  common  ruffians.' 

'For  Heaven's  sake.  Master  Girnigy,'  said  Phoebe, 
'forbear  giving  the  colonel  these  bitter  words!  And  do 
you,  good  Colonel  Markham,  scorn  to  take  offence  at 
his  hands  —  he  is  but  a  boy.' 

*If  the  colonel  or  you  choose,  Mistress  Phoebe,  you 
shall  find  me  a  man;  I  think  the  gentleman  can  say 
something  to  the  purpose  already.  Probably  he  may 
recommend  to  you  the  part  of  the  Lady  in  "  Comus  "; 
and  I  only  hope  his  own  admiration  of  John  Milton  will 
not  induce  him  to  undertake  the  part  of  Samson  Agon- 
istes,  and  blow  up  this  old  house  with  execrations,  or 
pull  it  down  in  wrath  about  our  ears.' 

142 


WOODSTOCK 

'Young  man,'  said  the  colonel,  still  in  towering  pas- 
sion, 'if  you  respect  my  principles  for  nothing  else,  be 
grateful  to  the  protection  which,  but  for  them,  you 
would  not  easily  attain.' 

'Nay,  then,'  said  the  attendant,  'I  must  fetch  those 
who  have  more  influence  wdth  you  than  I  have,'  and 
away  tripped  Phoebe ;  while  Kerneguy  answered  Ever- 
ard  in  the  same  provoking  tone  of  calm  indifference  — 

'Before  you  menace  me  with  a  thing  so  formidable  as 
your  resentment,  you  ought  to  be  certain  whether  I  may 
not  be  compelled  by  circumstances  to  deny  you  the 
opportunity  you  seem  to  point  at.' 

At  this  moment  Ahce,  summoned  no  doubt  by  her 
attendant,  entered  the  hall  hastily. 

'Master  Kerneguy,'  she  said,  'my  father  requests  to 
see  you  in  Victor  Lee's  apartment.' 

Kerneguy  arose  and  bowed,  but  seemed  determined  to 
remain  till  Everard's  departure,  so  as  to  prevent  any 
explanation  betwixt  the  cousins. 

'Markham,'  said  Alice,  hurriedly  —  'cousin  Everard 

—  I  have  but  a  moment  to  remain  here  —  for  God's 
sake,  do  you  instantly  begone!  Be  cautious  and  patient 

—  but  do    not   tarry  here  —  my  father    is  fearfully 
incensed.' 

'I  have  had  my  uncle's  word  for  that,  madam,'  replied 
Everard,  'as  well  as  his  injunction  to  depart,  which  I 
will  obey  without  delay.  I  was  not  aware  that  you 
would  have  seconded  so  harsh  an  order  quite  so  will- 
ingly; but  I  go,  madam,  sensible  I  leave  those  behind 
whose  company  is  more  agreeable.' 

'Unjust  —  ungenerous  —  ungrateful!'  said  Alice;  but 
fearful  her  words  might  reach  ears  for  which  they  were 

143 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

not  designed,  she  spoke  them  in  a  voice  so  feeble,  that 
her  cousin,  for  whom  they  were  intended,  lost  the  con- 
solation they  were  calculated  to  convey. 

He  bowed  coldly  to  Alice,  as  taking  leave,  and  said 
with  an  air  of  that  constrained  courtesy  which  some- 
times covers  among  men  of  condition  the  most  deadly 
hatred,  *  I  believe.  Master  Kerneguy,  that  I  must  make 
it  convenient  at  present  to  suppress  my  own  peculiar 
opinions  on  the  matter  which  we  have  hinted  at  in  our 
conversation,  in  which  case  I  will  send  a  gentleman,  who, 
I  hope,  may  be  able  to  conquer  yours.' 

The  supposed  Scotsman  made  him  a  stately,  and  at 
the  same  time  a  condescending,  bow,  said  he  should 
expect  the  honour  of  his  commands,  offered  his  hand  to 
Mistress  Alice,  to  conduct  her  back  to  her  father's 
apartment,  and  took  a  triumphant  leave  of  his  rival. 

Everard,  on  the  other  hand,  stung  beyond  his  pa- 
tience, and,  from  the  grace  and  composed  assurance  of 
the  youth's  carriage,  still  conceiving  him  to  be  either 
Wilmot  or  some  of  his  compeers  in  rank  and  profligacy, 
returned  to  the  town  of  Woodstock,  determined  not  to 
be  outbearded,  even  though  he  should  seek  redress  by 
means  which  his  principles  forbade  him  to  consider  as 
justifiable. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

Boundless  intemperance 
In  nature  is  a  tyranny;  it  hath  been 
The  untimely  emptying  of  the  happy  throne, 
And  fall  of  many  kings. 

Macbeth. 

While  Colonel  Everard  retreated  in  high  indignation 
from  the  little  refection  which  Sir  Henry  Lee  had  in  his 
good-humour  offered,  and  withdrawn  under  the  circum- 
stances of  provocation  which  we  have  detailed,  the  good 
old  knight,  scarce  recovered  from  his  fit  of  passion,  par- 
took of  it  with  his  daughter  and  guest,  and  shortly  after, 
recollecting  some  silvan  task  (for,  though  to  little  effi- 
cient purpose,  he  still  regularly  attended  to  his  duties  as 
ranger),  he  called  Bevis,  and  went  out,  leaving  the  two 
young  people  together. 

*Now,'  said  the  amorous  prince  to  himself,  'that  Alice 
is  left  without  her  lion,  it  remains  to  see  whether  she  is 
herself  of  a  tigress  breed.  So,  Sir  Bevis  has  left  his 
charge,'  he  said  aloud;  'I  thought  the  knights  of  old, 
those  stern  guardians  of  which  he  is  so  fit  a  representa- 
tive, were  more  rigorous  in  maintaining  a  vigilant  guard.' 

'Bevis,'  said  Alice,  'knows  that  his  attendance  on  me 
is  totally  needless;  and,  moreover,  he  has  other  duties  to 
perform,  which  every  true  knight  prefers  to  dangling  the 
whole  morning  by  a  lady's  sleeve.' 

'You  speak  treason  against  all  true  affection,'  said  the 
gallant:  'a  lady's  lightest  wish  should  to  a  true  knight 
be  more  binding  than  aught  excepting  the  summons  of 

38  145 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

his  sovereign.  I  wish,  Mistress  Alice,  you  would  but 
intimate  your  slightest  desire  to  me,  and  you  should  see 
how  I  have  practised  obedience.' 

'You  never  brought  me  word  what  o'clock  it  was  this 
morning,'  replied  the  young  lady,  'and  there  I  sate 
questioning  of  the  wings  of  Time,  when  I  should  have 
remembered  that  gentlemen's  gallantry  can  be  quite  as 
fugitive  as  Time  himself.  How  do  you  know  what  your 
disobedience  may  have  cost  me  and  others?  Pudding 
and  pasty  may  have  been  burned  to  a  cinder,  for,  sir,  I 
practise  the  old  domestic  rule  of  visiting  the  kitchen;  or 
I  may  have  missed  prayers,  or  I  may  have  been  too  late 
for  an  appointment,  simply  by  the  negligence  of  Master 
Louis  Kerneguy  failing  to  let  me  know  the  hour  of  the 
day.' 

'O,'  repHed  Kerneguy,  'I  am  one  of  those  lovers  who 
cannot  endure  absence.  I  must  be  eternally  at  the  feet 
of  my  fair  enemy  —  such,  I  think,  is  the  title  with  which 
romances  teach  us  to  grace  the  fair  and  cruel  to  whom 
we  devote  our  hearts  and  hves.  Speak  for  me,  good 
lute,'  he  added,  taking  up  the  instrument,  'and  show 
whether  I  know  not  my  duty.' 

He  sung,  but  with  more  taste  than  execution,  the  air 
of  a  French  rondelai,  to  which  some  of  the  wits  or  son- 
neteers in  his  gay  and  roving  train  had  adapted  English 
verses. 

An  hour  with  thee!  When  earliest  day 
Dapples  with  gold  the  eastern  grey, 
Oh,  what  can  frame  my  mind  to  bear 
The  toil  and  turmoil,  cark  and  care, 
New  griefs  which  coming  hours  unfold, 
And  sad  remembrance  of  the  old? 

One  hour  with  thee. 

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WOODSTOCK 

One  hour  with  thee!  When  burning  June 
Waves  his  red  flag  at  pitch  of  noon; 
What  shall  repay  the  faithful  swain 
His  labour  on  the  sultry  plain, 
And  more  than  cave  or  sheltering  bough, 
Cool  feverish  blood,  and  throbbing  brow? 

One  hour  with  thee. 

One  hour  with  thee!  When  sun  is  set, 

O,  what  can  teach  me  to  forget 

The  thankless  labours  of  the  day, 

The  hopes,  the  wishes,  flung  away. 

The  increasing  wants,  and  lessening  gains, 

The  master's  pride,  who  scorns  my  pains? 

One  hour  with  thee. 

'Truly,  there  is  another  verse,'  said  the  songster;  'but 
I  sing  it  not  to  you,  Mistress  Alice,  because  some  of  the 
prudes  of  the  court  Uked  it  not.' 

*I  thank  you,  Master  Louis,'  answered  the  young 
lady, '  both  for  your  discretion  in  singing  what  has  given 
me  pleasure  and  in  forbearing  what  might  offend  me. 
Though  a  country  girl,  I  pretend  to  be  so  far  of  the  court 
mode  as  to  receive  nothing  which  does  not  pass  current 
among  the  better  class  there.' 

*  I  would,'  answered  Louis, '  that  you  were  so  well  con- 
firmed in  their  creed  as  to  let  all  pass  with  you  to  which 
court  ladies  would  give  currency.' 

*And  what  would  be  the  consequence?'  said  Alice, 
with  perfect  composure. 

'In  that  case,'  said  Louis,  embarrassed  like  a  general 
who  finds  that  his  preparations  for  attack  do  not  seem  to 
strike  either  fear  or  confusion  into  the  enemy  —  'in  that 
case  you  would  forgive  me,  fair  Alice,  if  I  spoke  to  you  in 
a  warmer  language  than  that  of  mere  gallantry  —  if  I 
told  you  how  much  my  heart  was  interested  in  what  you 

147 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

consider  as  idle  jesting  —  if  I  seriously  owned  it  was  in 
your  power  to  make  me  the  happiest  or  the  most  miser- 
able of  human  beings.' 

'Master  Kerneguy/  said  Alice,  with  the  same  un- 
shaken nonchalance,  'let  us  understand  each  other.  I 
am  Httle  acquainted  with  high-bred  manners,  and  I  am 
unwilling,  I  tell  you  plainly,  to  be  accounted  a  silly 
country  girl,  who,  either  from  ignorance  or  conceit,  is 
startled  at  every  word  of  gallantry  addressed  to  her  by 
a  young  man,  who,  for  the  present,  has  nothing  better 
to  do  than  coin  and  circulate  such  false  compliments. 
But  I  must  not  let  this  fear  of  seeming  rustic  and  awk- 
wardly timorous  carry  me  too  far ;  and  being  igno- 
rant of  the  exact  limits,  I  will  take  care  to  stop  within 
them.' 

*I  trust,  madam,'  said  Kerneguy,  'that,  however 
severely  you  may  be  disposed  to  judge  of  me,  your  just- 
ice will  not  punish  me  too  severely  for  an  offence  of 
which  your  charms  are  alone  the  occasion?' 

'Hear  me  out,  sir,  if  you  please,'  resumed  Alice.  'I 
have  listened  to  you  when  you  spoke  en  herger  —  nay, 
my  complaisance  has  been  so  great  as  to  answer  you 
en  hergere  —  for  I  do  not  think  anything  except  ridicule 
can  come  of  dialogues  between  Lindor  and  Jeanneton; 
and  the  principal  fault  of  the  style  is  its  extreme  and 
tiresome  silliness  and  affectation.  But  when  you  begin 
to  kneel,  offer  to  take  my  hand,  and  speak  with  a  more 
serious  tone,  I  must  remind  you  of  our  real  characters.  I 
am  the  daughter  of  Sir  Henry  Lee,  sir;  and  you  are,  or 
profess  to  be.  Master  Louis  Kerneguy,  my  brother's 
page,  and  a  fugitive  for  shelter  under  my  father's  roof, 
who  incurs  danger  by  the  harbour  he  affords  you,  and 

148 


WOODSTOCK 

whose  household,  therefore,  ought  not  to  be  disturbed 
by  your  unpleasing  importunities.' 

'I  would  to  Heaven,  fair  Alice,'  said  the  King,  'that 
your  objections  to  the  suit  which  I  am  urging,  not  in 
jest,  but  most  seriously,  as  that  on  which  my  happiness 
depends,  rested  only  on  the  low  and  precarious  station 
of  Louis  Kerneguy !  Alice,  thou  hast  the  soul  of  thy  fam- 
ily, and  must  needs  love  honour.  I  am  no  more  the  needy 
Scotch  page  whom  I  have,  for  my  own  purposes,  per- 
sonated than  I  am  the  awkward  lout  whose  manners  I 
adopted  on  the  first  night  of  our  acquaintance.  This 
hand,  poor  as  I  seem,  can  confer  a  coronet.' 

'Keep  it,'  said  Alice,  'for  some  more  ambitious  dam- 
sel, my  lord  —  for  such  I  conclude  is  your  title,  if  this 
romance  be  true  —  I  would  not  accept  your  hand  could 
you  confer  a  duchy.' 

'In  one  sense,  lovely  Alice,  you  have  neither  over- 
rated my  power  nor  my  affection.  It  is  your  king  —  it 
is  Charles  Stuart  who  speaks  to  you!  He  can  confer 
duchies,  and  if  beauty  can  merit  them,  it  is  that  of  Alice 
Lee.  Nay  —  nay,  rise  —  do  not  kneel;  it  is  for  your 
sovereign  to  kneel  to  thee,  Alice,  to  whom  he  is  a  thou- 
sand times  more  devoted  than  the  wanderer  Louis 
dared  venture  to  profess  himself.  My  AKce  has,  I  know, 
been  trained  up  in  those  principles  of  love  and  obedience 
to  her  sovereign,  that  she  cannot,  in  conscience  or  in 
mercy,  inflict  on  him  such  a  wound  as  would  be  implied 
in  the  rejection  of  his  suit.' 

In  spite  of  all  Charles's  attempts  to  prevent  her,  Alice 
had  persevered  in  kneeling  on  one  knee,  until  she  had 
touched  with  her  lip  the  hand  with  which  he  attempted 
to  raise  her.   But  this  salutation  ended,  she  stood  up- 

149 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

right,  with  her  arms  folded  on  her  bosom,  her  looks 
humble,  but  composed,  keen  and  watchful,  and  so  pos- 
sessed of  herself,  so  little  flattered  by  the  communica- 
tion which  the  King  had  supposed  would  have  been 
overpowering,  that  he  scarce  knew  in  what  terms  next 
to  urge  his  solicitation. 

' Thou  art  silent  —  thou  art  silent,'  he  said,  'my  pretty 
Alice.  Has  the  king  no  more  influence  with  thee  than 
the  poor  Scottish  page?' 

'In  one  sense,  every  influence,'  said  Alice;  'for  he 
commands  my  best  thoughts,  my  best  wishes,  my  ear- 
nest prayers,  my  devoted  loyalty,  which,  as  the  men  of 
the  house  of  Lee  have  been  ever  ready  to  testify  with  the 
sword,  so  are  the  women  bound  to  seal,  if  necessary,  with 
their  blood.  But  beyond  the  duties  of  a  true  and  devoted 
subject,  the  king  is  even  less  to  Alice  Lee  than  poor  Louis 
Kerneguy.  The  page  could  have  tendered  an  honour- 
able union;  the  monarch  can  but  offer  a  contaminated 
coronet.' 

'You  mistake,  Alice  —  you  mistake,'  said  the  King, 
eagerly.  '  Sit  down  and  let  me  speak  to  you  —  sit  down. 
What  is 't  you  fear  ? ' 

'I  fear  nothing,  my  Hege,'  said  Alice.  'What  can  I 
fear  from  the  king  of  Britain  —  I,  the  daughter  of  his 
loyal  subject,  and  under  my  father's  roof  ?  But  I  remem- 
ber the  distance  betwixt  us,  and  though  I  might  trifle 
and  jest  with  mine  equal,  to  my  king  I  must  only  appear 
in  the  dutiful  posture  of  a  subject,  unless  where  his 
safety  may  seem  to  require  that  I  do  not  acknowledge 
his  dignity.' 

Charles,  though  young,  being  no  novice  in  such  scenes, 
was  surprised  to  encounter  resistance  of  a  kind  which 

150 


WOODSTOCK 

had  not  been  opposed  to  him  in  similar  pursuits,  even 
in  cases  where  he  had  been  unsuccessful.  There  was 
neither  anger,  nor  injured  pride,  nor  disorder,  nor  dis- 
dain, real  or  affected,  in  the  manners  and  conduct  of 
Alice.  She  stood,  as  it  seemed,  calmly  prepared  to  argue 
on  the  subject  which  is  generally  decided  by  passion  — 
showed  no  inchnation  to  escape  from  the  apartment,  but 
appeared  determined  to  hear  with  patience  the  suit  of 
the  lover,  while  her  countenance  and  manner  intimated 
that  she  had  this  complaisance  only  in  deference  to  the 
commands  of  the  king. 

'She  is  ambitious,'  thought  Charles:  'it  is  by  dazzling 
her  love  of  glory,  not  by  mere  passionate  entreaties,  that 
I  must  hope  to  be  successful.  I  pray  you  be  seated,  my 
fair  Alice,'  he  said,  'the  lover  entreats  —  the  king  com- 
mands you.' 

'The  king,'  said  Alice,  'may  permit  the  relaxation  of 
the  ceremonies  due  to  royalty,  but  he  cannot  abrogate 
the  subject's  duty,  even  by  express  command.  I  stand 
here  while  it  is  your  Majesty's  pleasure  to  address  me, 
a  patient  Ustener,  as  in  duty  bound.' 

'Know  then,  simple  girl,'  said  the  King,  'that,  in  ac- 
cepting my  proffered  affection  and  protection,  you  break 
through  no  law,  either  of  virtue  or  morality.  Those  who 
are  born  to  royalty  are  deprived  of  many  of  the  com- 
forts of  private  life  —  chiefly  that  which  is,  perhaps,  the 
dearest  and  most  precious,  the  power  of  choosing  their 
own  mates  for  life.  Their  formal  weddings  are  guided 
upon  principles  of  political  expedience  only,  and  those 
to  whom  they  are  wedded  are  frequently,  in  temper, 
person,  and  disposition,  the  most  unlikely  to  make  them 
happy.  Society  has  commiseration,  therefore,  towards 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

us,  and  binds  our  unwilling  and  often  unhappy  wedlocks 
with  chains  of  a  lighter  and  more  easy  character  than 
those  which  fetter  other  men,  whose  marriage  ties,  as 
more  voluntarily  assumed,  ought,  in  proportion,  to  be 
more  strictly  binding.  And  therefore,  ever  since  the 
time  that  old  Henry  built  these  walls,  priests  and  pre- 
lates, as  well  as  nobles  and  statesmen,  have  been  accus- 
tomed to  see  a  Fair  Rosamond  rule  the  heart  of  an  af- 
fectionate monarch,  and  console  him  for  the  few  hours 
of  constraint  and  state  which  he  must  bestow  upon  some 
angry  and  jealous  Eleanor.  To  such  a  connexion  the 
world  attaches  no  blame:  they  rush  to  the  festival  to  ad- 
mire the  beauty  of  the  lovely  Esther,  while  the  imperi- 
ous Vashti  is  left  to  queen  it  in  solitude;  they  throng  the 
palace  to  ask  her  protection,  whose  influence  is  more  in 
the  state  an  hundred  times  than  that  of  the  proud  con- 
sort; her  offspring  rank  with  the  nobles  of  the  land,  and 
vindicate  by  their  courage,  like  the  celebrated  Long- 
sword,  Earl  of  Salisbury,  their  descent  from  royalty  and 
from  love.  From  such  connexions  our  richest  ranks  of 
nobles  are  recruited ;  and  the  mother  lives,  in  the  great- 
ness of  her  posterity,  honoured  and  blessed,  as  she  died 
lamented  and  wept  in  the  arms  of  love  and  friendship.' 

'Did  Rosamond  so  die,  my  lord?'  said  Alice.  'Our 
records  say  she  was  poisoned  by  the  injured  queen  — 
poisoned,  without  time  allowed  to  call  to  God  for  the 
pardon  of  her  many  faults.  Did  her  memory  so  live?  I 
have  heard  that,  when  the  bishop  purified  the  church  at 
Godstowe,  her  monument  was  broken  open  by  his  orders, 
and  her  bones  thrown  out  into  unconsecrated  ground.' 

'Those  were  rude  old  days,  sweet  Alice,'  answered 
Charles:  'queens  are  not  now  so  jealous,  nor  bishops  so 

152 


WOODSTOCK 

rigorous.  And  know,  besides,  that,  in  the  lands  to  which 
I  would  lead  the  loveHest  of  her  sex,  other  laws  obtain, 
which  remove  from  such  ties  even  the  slightest  show  of 
scandal.  There  is  a  mode  of  matrimony  which,  fulfilling 
all  the  rites  of  the  church,  leaves  no  stain  on  the  con- 
science; yet,  investing  the  bride  with  none  of  the  priv- 
ileges peculiar  to  her  husband's  condition,  infringes  not 
upon  the  duties  which  the  king  owes  to  his  subjects.  So 
that  Alice  Lee  may,  in  all  respects,  become  the  real  and 
lawful  wife  of  Charles  Stuart,  except  that  their  pri- 
vate union  gives  her  no  title  to  be  Queen  of  England.' 

*My  ambition,'  said  Alice,  'will  be  sufficiently  grati- 
fied to  see  Charles  king,  without  aiming  to  share  either 
his  dignity  in  public  or  his  wealth  and  regal  luxury  in 
private.' 

*I  understand  thee,  Alice,'  said  the  King,  hurt,  but 
not  displeased.  'You  ridicule  me,  being  a  fugitive,  for 
speaking  like  a  king.  It  is  a  habit,  I  admit,  which  I  have 
learned,  and  of  which  even  misfortune  cannot  cure  me. 
But  my  case  is  not  so  desperate  as  you  may  suppose. 
My  friends  are  still  many  in  these  kingdoms;  my  allies 
abroad  are  bound,  by  regard  to  their  own  interest,  to 
espouse  my  cause.  I  have  hopes  given  me  from  Spain, 
from  France,  and  from  other  nations;  and  I  have  con- 
fidence that  my  father's  blood  has  not  been  poured  forth 
in  vain,  nor  is  doomed  to  dry  up  without  due  vengeance. 
My  trust  is  in  Him  from  whom  princes  derive  their  title, 
and,  think  what  thou  wilt  of  my  present  condition,  I 
have  perfect  confidence  that  I  shall  one  day  sit  on  the 
throne  of  England.' 

'May  God  grant  it!'  said  Alice,  'and  that  He  may 
grant  it,  noble  prince,  deign  to  consider  whether  you  now 

153 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

pursue  a  conduct  likely  to  conciliate  His  favour.  Think 
of  the  course  you  recommend  to  a  motherless  maiden, 
who  has  no  better  defence  against  your  sophistry  than 
what  a  sense  of  morality,  together  with  the  natural  feel- 
ing of  female  dignity,  inspires.  Whether  the  death  of  her 
father,  which  would  be  the  consequence  of  her  impru- 
dence, whether  the  despair  of  her  brother,  whose  life 
has  been  so  often  in  peril  to  save  that  of  your  Majesty, 
whether  the  dishonour  of  the  roof  which  has  sheltered 
you,  will  read  well  in  your  annals,  or  are  events  likely  to 
propitiate  God,  whose  controversy  with  your  house  has 
been  but  too  visible,  or  recover  the  affections  of  the  peo- 
ple of  England,  in  whose  eyes  such  actions  are  an  abom- 
ination, I  leave  to  your  own  royal  mind  to  consider.' 

Charles  paused,  struck  with  a  turn  to  the  conversa- 
tion which  placed  his  own  interests  more  in  collision  with 
the  gratification  of  his  present  passion  than  he  had  sup- 
posed. 

'If  your  Majesty,'  said  Alice,  curtsying  deeply,  'has 
no  further  commands  for  my  attendance,  may  I  be  per- 
mitted to  withdraw  ? ' 

'Stay  yet  a  little,  strange  and  impracticable  girl,' 
said  the  King,  'and  answer  me  but  one  question.  Is  it 
the  lowness  of  my  present  fortunes  that  makes  my  suit 
contemptible?' 

*I  have  nothing  to  conceal,  my  liege,'  she  said,  'and 
my  answer  shall  be  as  plain  and  direct  as  the  question 
you  have  asked.  If  I  could  have  been  moved  to  an  act 
of  ignominious,  insane,  and  ungrateful  folly,  it  could  only 
arise  from  my  being  blinded  by  that  passion  which  I 
believe  is  pleaded  as  an  excuse  for  folly  and  for  crime 
much  more  often  than  it  has  a  real  existence.  I  must,  in 

154 


WOODSTOCK 

short,  have  been  in  love,  as  it  is  called;  and  that  might 
have  been  with  my  equal,  but  surely  never  with  my  sov- 
ereign,whether  such  only  in  title  or  in  possession  of  his 
kingdom.' 

'Yet  loyalty  was  ever  the  pride,  almost  the  ruling 
passion,  of  your  family,  Alice,'  said  the  King. 

'And  could  I  reconcile  that  loyalty,'  said  Alice,  'with 
indulging  my  sovereign,  by  permitting  him  to  prosecute 
a  suit  dishonourable  to  himself  as  to  me?  Ought  I,  as  a 
faithful  subject,  to  join  him  in  a  folly  which  might  throw 
yet  another  stumbhng-block  in  the  path  to  his  restora- 
tion, and  could  only  serve  to  diminish  his  security,  even 
if  he  were  seated  upon  his  throne?' 

'At  this  rate,'  said  Charles,  discontentedly,  'I  had 
better  have  retained  my  character  of  the  page  than  as- 
sumed that  of  a  sovereign,  which  it  seems  is  still  more 
irreconcilable  with  my  wishes.' 

'My  candour  shall  go  still  further,'  said  Alice.  'I 
could  have  felt  as  little  for  Louis  Kerneguy  as  for  the 
heir  of  Britain;  for  such  love  as  I  have  to  bestow  —  and 
it  is  not  such  as  I  read  of  in  romance,  or  hear  poured 
forth  in  song  —  has  been  already  conferred  on  another 
object.  This  gives  your  Majesty  pain;  I  am  sorry  for 
it,  but  the  wholesomest  medicines  are  often  bitter.' 

'Yes,'  answered  the  King,  with  some  asperity,  'and 
physicians  are  reasonable  enough  to  expect  their  pa- 
tients to  swallow  them  as  if  they  were  honeycomb.  It 
is  true,  then,  that  whispered  tale  of  the  cousin  colonel; 
and  the  daughter  of  the  loyal  Lee  has  set  her  heart  upon 
a  rebellious  fanatic?' 

'My  love  was  given  ere  I  knew  what  these  words 
"fanatic"  and  "rebel"  meant.   I  recalled  it  not,  for  I 

155 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

am  satisfied  that,  amidst  the  great  distractions  which 
divide  the  kingdom,  the  person  to  whom  you  allude  has 
chosen  his  part,  erroneously  perhaps,  but  conscientiously ; 
he,  therefore,  has  still  the  highest  place  in  my  affection 
and  esteem.  More  he  cannot  have,  and  will  not  ask,  un- 
til some  happy  turn  shall  reconcile  these  public  differ- 
ences, and  my  father  be  once  more  reconciled  to  him. 
Devoutly  do  I  pray  that  such  an  event  may  occur  by 
your  Majesty's  speedy  and  unanimous  restoration ! ' 

'You  have  found  out  a  reason,'  said  the  King,  pet- 
tishly, '  to  make  me  detest  the  thought  of  such  a  change; 
nor  have  you,  Alice,  any  sincere  interest  to  pray  for  it. 
On  the  contrary,  do  you  not  see  that  your  lover,  walking 
side  by  side  with  Cromwell,  may,  or  rather  must,  share 
his  power?  nay,  if  Lambert  does  not  anticipate  him,  he 
may  trip  up  Oliver's  heels  and  reign  in  his  stead.  And 
think  you  not  he  will  find  means  to  overcome  the  pride 
of  the  loyal  Lees,  and  achieve  an  union  for  which  things 
are  better  prepared  than  that  which  Cromwell  is  said 
to  meditate  betwixt  one  of  his  brats  and  the  no  less  loyal 
heir  of  Fauconberg? ' 

'Your  Majesty,'  said  Alice,  'has  foimd  a  way  at 
length  to  avenge  yourself  —  if  what  I  have  said  deserves 
vengeance.' 

'I  could  point  out  a  yet  shorter  road  to  your  union,' 
said  Charles,  without  minding  her  distress,  or  perhaps 
enjoying  the  pleasure  of  retahation.  'Suppose  that  you 
sent  your  colonel  word  that  there  was  one  Charles 
Stuart  here,  who  had  come  to  disturb  the  saints  in 
their  peaceful  government,  which  they  had  acquired  by 
prayer  and  preaching,  pike  and  gun ;  and  suppose  he  had 
the  art  to  bring  down  a  half-score  of  troopers  —  quite 

iS6 


WOODSTOCK 

enough,  as  times  go,  to  decide  the  fate  of  this  heir  of 
royalty  —  think  you  not  the  possession  of  such  a  prize 
as  this  might  obtain  from  the  Rumpers,  or  from  Crom- 
well, such  a  reward  as  might  overcome  your  father's  ob- 
jections to  a  Roundhead's  alliance,  and  place  the  fair 
Alice  and  her  cousin  colonel  in  full  possession  of  their 
wishes? ' 

*My  Uege,'  said  Alice,  her  cheeks  glowing  and  her  eyes 
sparkling,  for  she  too  had  her  share  of  the  hereditary 
temperament  of  her  family, '  this  passes  my  patience.  I 
have  heard,  without  expressing  anger,  the  most  igno- 
minious persuasions  addressed  to  myself,  and  I  have 
vindicated  myself  for  refusing  to  be  the  paramour  of  a 
fugitive  prince,  as  if  I  had  been  excusing  myself  from 
accepting  a  share  of  an  actual  crown.  But  do  you  think 
I  can  hear  all  who  are  dear  to  me  slandered  without 
emotion  or  reply?  I  will  not,  sir;  and  were  you  seated 
with  all  the  terrors  of  your  father's  Star  Chamber  around 
you,  you  should  hear  me  defend  the  absent  and  the  inno- 
cent. Of  my  father  I  will  say  nothing,  but  that,  if  he  is 
now  without  wealth,  without  state,  almost  without  a 
sheltering  home  and  needful  food,  it  is  because  he  spent 
all  in  the  service  of  the  King.  He  needed  not  to  commit 
any  act  of  treachery  or  villainy  to  obtain  wealth:  he  had 
an  ample  competence  in  his  own  possessions.  For  Mark- 
ham  Everard  —  he  knows  no  such  thing  as  selfishness: 
he  would  not  for  broad  England,  had  she  the  treasures  of 
Peru  in  her  bosom,  and  a  paradise  on  her  surface,  do  a 
deed  that  would  disgrace  his  own  name  or  injure  the 
feelings  of  another.  Kings,  my  liege,  may  take  a  lesson 
from  him.   My  liege,  for  the  present,  I  take  my  leave.' 

'Alice  —  Alice,  stay!'  exclaimed  the  King.    'She  is 

157 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

gone.  This  must  be  virtue  —  real,  disinterested,  over- 
awing virtue  —  or  there  is  no  such  thing  on  earth.  Yet 
Wilmot  and  Villiers  will  not  believe  a  word  of  it,  but  add 
the  tale  to  the  other  wonders  of  Woodstock.  'T  is  a  rare 
wench!  and  I  profess,  to  use  the  colonel's  obtestation, 
that  I  know  not  whether  to  forgive  and  be  friends  with 
her  or  study  a  dire  revenge.  If  it  were  not  for  that  ac- 
cursed cousin  —  that  Puritan  colonel,  I  could  forgive 
everything  else  to  so  noble  a  wench.  But  a  Roundheaded 
rebel  preferred  to  me,  the  preference  avowed  to  my  face, 
and  justified  with  the  assertion  that  a  king  might  take  a 
lesson  from  him  —  it  is  gall  and  wormwood.  If  the  old 
man  had  not  come  up  this  morning  as  he  did,  the  King 
should  have  taken  or  given  a  lesson,  and  a  severe  one. 
It  was  a  mad  rencontre  to  venture  upon  with  my  rank 
and  responsibiHty;  and  yet  this  wench  has  made  me  so 
angry  with  her,  and  so  envious  of  him,  that,  if  an  oppor- 
tunity offered,  I  should  scarce  be  able  to  forbear  him. 
Ha !  whom  have  we  here? ' 

The  interjection  at  the  conclusion  of  this  royal  solilo- 
quy was  occasioned  by  the  unexpected  entrance  of  an- 
other personage  of  the  drama. 


CHAPTER  XXVn 

Benedick.  Shall  I  speak  a  word  in  your  ear  ? 
Claudio.  God  bless  me  from  a  challenge  I 

Much  Ado  about  Nothing. 

As  Charles  was  about  to  leave  the  apartment,  he  was 
prevented  by  the  appearance  of  Wildrake,  who  entered 
with  an  unusual  degree  of  swagger  in  his  gait,  and  of 
fantastic  importance  on  his  brow.  *  I  crave  your  pardon, 
fair  sir,'  he  said;  'but  as  they  say  in  my  country,  when 
doors  are  open  dogs  enter.  I  have  knocked  and  called 
in  the  hall  to  no  purpose;  so,  knowing  the  way  to  this 
parlour,  sir  —  for  I  am  a  light  partizan,  and  the  road 
I  once  travel  I  never  forget  —  I  ventured  to  present 
myself  unannounced.' 

*Sir  Henry  Lee  is  abroad,  sir,  I  believe,  in  the  chase,' 
said  Charles,  coldly,  for  the  appearance  of  this  somewhat 
vulgar  debauchee  was  not  agreeable  to  him  at  the  mo- 
ment, 'and  Master  Albert  Lee  has  left  the  lodge  for  two 
or  three  days.' 

*I  am  aware  of  it,  sir,'  said  Wildrake;  'but  I  have  no 
business  at  present  with  either.' 

'And  with  whom  is  your  business?'  said  Charles; 
*that  is,  if  I  may  be  permitted  to  ask,  since  I  think  it 
cannot  in  possibility  be  with  me.' 

'Pardon  me  in  turn,  sir,'  answered  the  Cavalier;  'in 
no  possibility  can  it  be  imparted  to  any  other  but  your- 
self, if  you  be,  as  I  think  you  are,  though  in  something 

159 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

better  habit,  Master  Louis  Girnigo,  the  Scottish  gentle- 
man who  waits  upon  Master  Albert  Lee.' 

*  I  am  all  you  are  Uke  to  find  for  him,'  answered  Charles. 

'In  truth,'  said  the  Cavalier,  *I  do  perceive  a  differ- 
ence, but  rest  and  better  clothing  will  do  much;  and  I 
am  glad  of  it,  since  I  would  be  sorry  to  have  brought  a 
message  such  as  I  am  charged  with  to  a  tatterdemalion.' 

'Let  us  get  to  the  business,  sir,  if  you  please,'  said  the 
King;  'you  have  a  message  for  me,  you  say?' 

'True,  sir,'  replied  Wildrake;  'I  am  the  friend  of 
Colonel  Markham  Everard,  sir,  a  tall  man,  and  a  worthy 
person  in  the  field,  although  I  could  wish  him  a  better 
cause.  A  message  I  have  to  you,  it  is  certain,  in  a  slight 
note,  which  I  take  the  Hberty  of  presenting  with  the 
usual  formahties.'  So  saying,  he  drew  his  sword,  put  the 
billet  he  mentioned  upon  the  point,  and,  making  a  pro- 
found bow,  presented  it  to  Charles. 

The  disguised  monarch  accepted  of  it  with  a  grave  re- 
turn of  the  salute,  and  said,  as  he  was  about  to  open  the 
letter, '  I  am  not,  I  presume,  to  expect  friendly  contents 
in  an  epistle  presented  in  so  hostile  a  manner? ' 

'A-hem,  sir,'  replied  the  ambassador,  clearing  his 
voice,  while  he  arranged  a  suitable  answer,  in  which  the 
mild  strain  of  diplomacy  might  be  properly  maintained ; 
'not  utterly  hostile,  I  suppose,  sir,  is  the  invitation, 
though  it  be  such  as  must  be  construed  in  the  commence- 
ment rather  bellicose  and  pugnacious.  I  trust,  sir,  we 
shall  find  that  a  few  thrusts  will  make  a  handsome  con- 
clusion of  the  business;  and  so,  as  my  old  master  used  to 
say,  Pax  nascitur  ex  hello.  For  my  own  poor  share,  I  am 
truly  glad  to  have  been  graced  by  my  friend  Markham 
Everard  in  this  matter,  the  rather  as  I  feared  the  Puri- 

i6o 


WOODSTOCK 

tan  principles  with  which  he  is  imbued  —  I  will  confess 
the  truth  to  you,  worthy  sir  —  might  have  rendered  him 
unwilling,  from  certain  scruples,  to  have  taken  the  gen- 
tlemanlike and  honourable  mode  of  righting  himself  in 
such  a  case  as  the  present.  And  as  I  render  a  friend's 
duty  to  my  friend,  so  I  humbly  hope,  Master  Louis  Gir- 
nigo,  that  I  do  no  injustice  to  you,  in  preparing  the  way 
for  the  proposed  meeting,  where,  give  me  leave  to  say, 
I  trust  that,  if  no  fatal  accident  occur,  we  shall  be  all 
better  friends  when  the  skirmish  is  over  than  we  were 
before  it  began.' 

*I  should  suppose  so,  sir,  in  any  case,'  said  Charles, 
looking  at  the  letter;  'worse  than  mortal  enemies  we  can 
scarce  be,  and  it  is  that  footing  upon  which  this  billet 
places  us.' 

'You  say  true,  sir,'  said  Wildrake;  'it  is,  sir,  a  cartel 
introducing  to  a  single  combat,  for  the  pacific  object  of 
restoring  a  perfect  good  understanding  betwixt  the  sur- 
vivors —  in  case  that  fortunately  that  word  can  be 
used  in  the  plural  after  the  event  of  the  meeting.' 

'In  short,  we  only  fight,  I  suppose,'  repHed  the  King, 
'that  we  may  come  to  a  perfectly  good  and  amicable 
understanding? ' 

'You  are  right  again,  sir,  and  I  thank  you  for  the 
clearness  of  your  apprehension,'  said  Wildrake.  'Ah, 
sir,  it  is  easy  to  do  with  a  person  of  honour  and  of  intel- 
lect in  such  a  case  as  this.  And  I  beseech  you,  sir,  as  a 
personal  kindness  to  myself,  that,  as  the  morning  is  Hke 
to  be  frosty,  and  myself  am  in  some  sort  rheumatic,  as 
war  will  leave  its  scars  behind,  sir  —  I  say,  I  will  entreat 
of  you  to  bring  with  you  some  gentleman  of  honour,  who 
will  not  disdain  to  take  part  of  what  is  going  forward  — 
38  i6i 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

a  sort  of  pot-luck,  sir  —  with  a  poor  old  soldier  like 
myself,  that  we  may  take  no  harm  by  standing  unoccu- 
pied during  such  cold  weather.' 

'I  understand,  sir,'  replied  Charles;  *if  this  matter 
goes  forward,  be  assured  I  will  endeavour  to  provide 
you  with  a  suitable  opponent.' 

*  I  shall  remain  greatly  indebted  to  you,  sir,'  said  Wild- 
rake;  'and  I  am  by  no  means  curious  about  the  quaHty 
of  my  antagonist.  It  is  true  I  write  myself  esquire 
and  gentleman,  and  should  account  myself  especially 
honoured  by  crossing  my  sword  with  that  of  Sir  Henry 
or  Master  Albert  Lee;  but  should  that  not  be  convenient, 
I  will  not  refuse  to  present  my  poor  person  in  opposition 
to  any  gentleman  who  has  served  the  King,  which  I  al- 
ways hold  as  a  sort  of  letters  of  nobility  in  itself,  and, 
therefore,  would  on  no  account  decline  the  duello  with 
such  a  person.' 

'The  King  is  much  obliged  to  you,  sir,'  said  Charles, 
'for  the  honour  you  do  his  faithful  subjects.' 

*  O,  sir,  I  am  scrupulous  on  that  point  —  very  scrupu- 
lous. When  there  is  a  Roundhead  in  question,  I  consult 
the  herald's  books,  to  see  that  he  is  entitled  to  bear  arms, 
as  is  Master  Markham  Everard,  without  which,  I  pro- 
mise you,  I  had  borne  none  of  his  cartel.  But  a  Cavalier 
is  with  me  a  gentleman  of  course.  Be  his  birth  ever  so 
low,  his  loyalty  has  ennobled  his  condition.' 

'It  is  well,  sir,'  said  the  King.  'This  paper  requests 
me  to  meet  Master  Everard  at  six  to-morrow  morning, 
at  the  tree  called  the  King's  Oak.  I  object  neither  to 
place  nor  time.  He  proffers  the  sword,  at  which,  he 
says,  we  possess  some  equality.  I  do  not  decHne  the 
weapon.  For  company,   two  gentlemen.  I   shall  en- 

162 


WOODSTOCK 

deavour  to  procure  myself  an  associate,  and  a  suit- 
able partner  for  you,  sir,  if  you  incline  to  join  in  the 
dance.' 

'  I  kiss  your  hand,  sir,  and  rest  yours,  under  a  sense  of 
obligation,'  answered  the  envoy. 

'I  thank  you,  sir,'  continued  the  King;  'I  will  there- 
fore be  ready  at  place  and  time,  and  suitably  furnished; 
and  I  will  either  give  your  friend  such  satisfaction  with 
my  sword  as  he  requires,  or  will  render  him  such  cause 
for  not  doing  so  as  he  will  be  contented  with.' 

'You  will  excuse  me,  sir,'  said  Wildrake,  *if  my  mind 
is  too  dull,  under  the  circumstances,  to  conceive  any 
alternative  that  can  remain  betwixt  two  men  of  honour 
in  such  a  case,  excepting  —  sa  —  sa — ! '  He  threw  him- 
self into  a  fencing  position,  and  made  a  pass  with  his 
sheathed  rapier,  but  not  directed  towards  the  person  of 
the  King,  whom  he  addressed. 

'Excuse  me,  sir,'  said  Charles,  'if  I  do  not  trouble 
your  intellects  with  the  consideration  of  a  case  which 
may  not  occur.  But,  for  example,  I  may  plead  urgent 
employment  on  the  part  of  the  public'  This  he  spoke  in 
a  low  and  mysterious  tone  of  voice,  which  Wildrake  ap- 
peared perfectly  to  comprehend ;  for  he  laid  his  forefinger 
on  his  nose  with  what  he  meant  for  a  very  intelligent 
and  apprehensive  nod. 

'Sir,'  said  he,  'if  you  be  engaged  in  any  affair  for  the 
King,  my  friend  shall  have  every  reasonable  degree  of 
patience.  Nay,  I  will  fight  him  myself  in  your  stead, 
merely  to  stay  his  stomach,  rather  than  you  should  be 
interrupted.  And,  sir,  if  you  can  find  room  in  your  en- 
terprise for  a  poor  gentleman  that  has  followed  Lunsford 
and  Goring,  you  have  but  to  name  day,  time,  and  place 

163 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

of  rendezvous;  for  truly,  sir,  I  am  tired  of  the  scald  hat, 
cropped  hair,  and  undertaker's  cloak  with  which  my 
friend  has  bedizened  me,  and  would  willingly  rufifle  it 
out  once  more  in  the  King's  cause,  when  whether  I  be 
banged  or  hanged,  I  care  not.' 

'  I  shall  remember  what  you  say,  sir,  should  an  oppor- 
tunity occur,'  said  the  King;  'and  I  wish  his  Majesty 
had  many  such  subjects.  I  presume  our  business  is  now 
settled?' 

'When  you  shall  have  been  pleased,  sir,  to  give  me  a 
trifling  scrap  of  writing,  to  serve  for  my  credentials;  for 
such,  you  know,  is  the  custom :  your  written  cartel  hath 
its  written  answer.' 

'That,  sir,  will  I  presently  do,'  said  Charles,  'and  in 
good  time;  here  are  the  materials.' 

'And,  sir,'  continued  the  envoy  —  'ahi!  —  ahem!  — 
if  you  have  interest  in  the  household  for  a  cup  of  sack.  I 
am  a  man  of  few  words,  and  am  somewhat  hoarse  with 
much  speaking;  moreover,  serious  business  of  this  kind 
always  makes  one  thirsty.  Besides,  sir,  to  part  with  dry 
lips  argues  malice,  which  God  forbid  should  exist  in 
such  an  honourable  conjuncture.' 

'I  do  not  boast  much  influence  in  the  house,  sir,' 
said  the  King;  'but  if  you  would  have  the  condescen- 
sion to  accept  of  this  broad  piece  towards  quenching 
your  thirst  at  the  George — ' 

'Sir,'  said  the  Cavalier,  for  the  times  admitted  of  this 
strange  species  of  courtesy,  nor  was  Wildrake  a  man  of 
such  pecuHar  delicacy  as  keenly  to  dispute  the  matter, 
'I  am  once  again  beholden  to  you.  But  I  see  not  how 
it  consists  with  my  honour  to  accept  of  such  accommo- 
dation, unless  you  were  to  accompany  and  partake? ' 

164 


WOODSTOCK 

'Pardon  me,  sir,'  replied  Charles,  'my  safety  recom- 
mends that  I  remain  rather  private  at  present.' 

'Enough  said,'  Wildrake  observed;  'poor  Cavaliers 
must  not  stand  on  ceremony.  I  see,  sir,  you  understand 
cutter's  law:  when  one  tall  fellow  has  coin,  another  must 
not  be  thirsty.  I  wish  you,  sir,  a  continuance  of  health 
and  happiness  until  to-morrow,  at  the  King's  Oak,  at 
six  o'clock.' 

'Farewell,  sir,'  said  the  King;  and  added,  as  Wild- 
rake went  down  the  stair  whistling  'Hey  for  cavaliers,' 
to  which  air  his  long  rapier,  jarring  against  the  steps 
and  banisters,  bore  no  unsuitable  burden  —  '  Farewell, 
thou  too  just  emblem  of  the  state  to  which  war,  and  de- 
feat, and  despair  have  reduced  many  a  gallant  gentle- 
man,' 

During  the  rest  of  the  day  there  occurred  nothing 
peculiarly  deserving  of  notice.  Alice  avoided  sedulously 
showing  towards  the  disguised  prince  any  degree  of  es- 
trangement or  shyness,  which  could  be  discovered  by 
her  father  or  by  any  one  else.  To  all  appearance,  the 
two  young  persons  continued  on  the  same  footing  in 
every  respect.  Yet  she  made  the  gallant  himself  sensible 
that  this  apparent  intimacy  was  assumed  merely  to 
save  appearances,  and  in  no  way  designed  as  retracting 
from  the  severity  with  which  she  had  rejected  his  suit. 
The  sense  that  this  was  the  case,  joined  to  his  injured 
self-love  and  his  enmity  against  a  successful  rival,  in- 
duced Charles  early  to  withdraw  himself  to  a  solitary 
walk  in  the  wilderness,  where,  like  Hercules  in  the  Em- 
blem of  Cebes,  divided  betwixt  the  personifications  of 
Virtue  and  of  Pleasure,  he  Hstened  alternately  to  the 
voice  of  Wisdom  and  of  passionate  Folly. 

165 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Prudence  urged  to  him  the  importance  of  his  own  life 
to  the  future  prosecution  of  the  great  object  in  which 
he  had  for  the  present  miscarried  —  the  restoration  of 
monarchy  in  England,  the  rebuilding  of  the  throne,  the 
regaining  the  crown  of  his  father,  the  avenging  his  death, 
and  restoring  to  their  fortunes  and  their  country  the 
numerous  exiles  who  were  suffering  poverty  and  banish- 
ment on  account  of  their  attachment  to  his  cause.  Pride 
too,  or  rather  a  just  and  natural  sense  of  dignity,  dis- 
played the  unworthiness  of  a  prince  descending  to  actual 
personal  conflict  with  a  subject  of  any  degree,  and  the 
ridicule  which  would  be  thrown  on  his  memory,  should 
he  lose  his  Hfe  for  an  obscure  intrigue  by  the  hand  of  a 
private  gentleman.  What  would  his  sage  counsellors, 
Nicholas  and  Hyde,  what  would  his  kind  and  wise  gov- 
ernor, the  Marquis  of  Hertford,  say  to  such  an  act  of 
rashness  and  folly?  Would  it  not  be  Hkely  to  shake  the 
allegiance  of  the  staid  and  prudent  persons  of  the  Royal- 
ist party,  since  wherefore  should  they  expose  their  Hves 
and  estates  to  raise  to  the  government  of  a  kingdom  a 
young  man  who  could  not  command  his  own  temper? 
To  this  was  to  be  added  the  consideration  that  even 
his  success  would  add  double  difficulties  to  his  escape, 
which  already  seemed  sufficiently  precarious.  If,  stop- 
ping short  of  death,  he  merely  had  the  better  of  his  an- 
tagonist, how  did  he  know  that  he  might  not  seek  re- 
venge by  delivering  up  to  government  the  Malignant 
Louis  Kerneguy,  whose  real  character  could  not  in  that 
case  fail  to  be  discovered? 

These  considerations  strongly  recommended  to 
Charles  that  he  should  clear  himself  of  the  challenge 
without  fighting ;  and  the  reservation  under  which  he 

i66 


WOODSTOCK 

had  accepted  it  afforded  him  some  opportunity  of  do- 
ing so. 

But  Passion  also  had  her  arguments,  which  she  ad- 
dressed to  a  temper  rendered  irritable  by  recent  distress 
and  mortification.  In  the  first  place,  if  he  was  a  prince, 
he  was  also  a  gentleman,  entitled  to  resent  as  such,  and 
obUged  to  give  or  claim  the  satisfaction  expected  on  oc- 
casion of  differences  among  gentlemen.  With  EngHsh- 
men,  she  urged,  he  could  never  lose  interest  by  showing 
himseK  ready,  instead  of  sheltering  himself  under  his 
royal  birth  and  pretensions,  to  come  frankly  forward, 
and  maintain  what  he  had  done  or  said  on  his  own  re- 
sponsibility. In  a  free  nation,  it  seemed  as  if  he  would 
rather  gain  than  lose  in  the  public  estimation  by  a  con- 
duct which  could  not  but  seem  gallant  and  generous. 
Then  a  character  for  courage  was  far  more  necessary  to 
support  his  pretensions  than  any  other  kind  of  reputa- 
tion; and  the  lying  under  a  challenge,  without  replying 
to  it,  might  bring  his  spirit  into  question.  What  would 
Villiers  and  Wilmot  say  of  an  intrigue  in  which  he  had 
allowed  himself  to  be  shamefully  bafBed  by  a  country 
girl,  and  had  failed  to  revenge  himself  on  his  rival?  The 
pasquinades  which  they  would  compose,  the  witty  sar- 
casms which  they  would  circulate,  on  the  occasion, 
would  be  harder  to  endure  than  the  grave  rebukes  of 
Hertford,  Hyde,  and  Nicholas.  This  reflection,  added 
to  the  stings  of  youthful  and  awakened  courage,  at 
length  fixed  his  resolution,  and  he  returned  to  Wood- 
stock determined  to  keep  his  appointment,  come  of  it 
what  might. 

Perhaps  there  mingled  with  his  resolution  a  secret 
belief  that  such  a  rencontre  would  not  prove  fatal.  He 

167 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

was  in  the  flower  of  his  youth,  active  in  all  his  exercises, 
and  no  way  inferior  to  Colonel  Everard,  as  far  as  the 
morning's  experiment  had  gone,  in  that  of  self-defence. 
At  least  such  recollection  might  pass  through  his  royal 
mind,  as  he  hummed  to  himself  a  well-known  ditty, 
which  he  had  picked  up  during  his  residence  in  Scot- 
land — 

A  man  may  drink  and  not  be  drunk; 

A  man  may  fight  and  not  be  slain; 
A  man  may  kiss  a  bonnie  lass, 

And  yet  be  welcome  back  again. 

Meanwhile  the  busy  and  all-directing  Dr.  Rochecliffe 
had  contrived  to  intimate  to  Alice  that  she  must  give 
him  a  private  audience,  and  she  found  him  by  appoint- 
ment in  what  was  called  the  study,  once  filled  with  an- 
cient books,  which,  long  since  converted  into  cartridges, 
had  made  more  noise  in  the  world  at  their  final  exit 
than  during  the  space  which  had  intervened  betwixt 
that  and  their  first  publication.  The  Doctor  seated  him- 
self in  a  high-backed  leathern  easy-chair,  and  signed  to 
Alice  to  fetch  a  stool  and  sit  down  beside  him. 

'Alice,'  said  the  old  man,  taking  her  hand  affection- 
ately, 'thou  art  a  good  girl,  a  wise  girl,  a  virtuous  girl, 
one  of  those  whose  price  is  above  rubies  —  not  that 
"rubies"  is  the  proper  translation  —  but  remind  me  to 
tell  you  of  that  another  time.  Alice,  thou  knowest  who 
this  Louis  Kerneguy  is;  nay,  hesitate  not  to  me,  I  know 
everything  —  I  am  well  aware  of  the  whole  matter. 
Thou  knowest  this  honoured  house  holds  the  Fortunes 
of  England.'  Alice  was  about  to  answer.  'Nay,  speak 
not,  but  listen  to  me,  Alice.  How  does  he  bear  himself 
towards  you?' 

1 68 


WOODSTOCK 

Alice  coloured  with  the  deepest  crimson.  *I  am  a 
country-bred  girl,'  she  said,  'and  his  manners  are  too 
courtUke  for  me.' 

'  Enough  said  —  I  know  it  all.  Alice,  he  is  exposed  to 
a  great  danger  to-morrow,  and  you  must  be  the  happy 
means  to  prevent  him.' 

*I  prevent  him!  —  how,  and  in  what  manner?'  said 
Alice,  in  surprise.  *It  is  my  duty,  as  a  subject,  to  do 
anything  —  anything  that  may  become  my  father's 
daughter  — ' 

Here  she  stopped,  considerably  embarrassed. 

*Yes,'  continued  the  Doctor,  'to-morrow  he  hath 
made  an  appointment  —  an  appointment  with  Mark- 
ham  Everard;  the  hour  and  place  are  set  —  six  in  the 
morning,  by  the  King's  Oak.  If  they  meet,  one  will 
probably  fall.' 

'Now,  may  God  forefend  they  should  meet,'  said 
Alice,  turning  as  suddenly  pale  as  she  had  previously 
reddened.  'But  harm  cannot  come  of  it:  Everard  will 
never  lift  his  sword  against  the  King.' 

'For  that,'  said  Dr.  Rochecliffe,  'I  would  not  warrant. 
But  if  that  unhappy  young  gentleman  shall  have  still 
some  reserve  of  the  loyalty  which  his  general  conduct 
entirely  disavows,  it  would  not  serve  us  here;  for  he 
knows  not  the  King,  but  considers  him  merely  as  a  Cav- 
alier, from  whom  he  has  received  injury.' 

'Let  him  know  the  truth.  Dr.  Rochecliffe,  let  him 
know  it  instantly,'  said  Alice.  'He  lift  hand  against  the 
King,  a  fugitive  and  defenceless!  He  is  incapable  of  it. 
My  life  on  the  issue,  he  becomes  most  active  in  his  pre- 
servation.' 

'That  is  the  thought  of  a  maiden,  Alice,'  answered  the 

169 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Doctor;  'and,  as  I  fear,  of  a  maiden  whose  wisdom  is 
misled  by  her  affections.  It  were  worse  than  treason  to 
admit  a  rebel  officer,  the  friend  of  the  arch-traitor  Crom- 
well, into  so  great  a  secret.  I  dare  not  answer  for  such 
rashness.  Hammond  was  trusted  by  his  father,  and  you 
know  what  came  of  it.' 

'Then  let  my  father  know.  He  will  meet  Markham, 
or  send  to  him,  representing  the  indignity  done  to  him 
by  attacking  his  guest.' 

'  We  dare  not  let  your  father  into  the  secret  who  Louis 
Kerneguy  really  is.  I  did  but  hint  the  possibility  of 
Charles  taking  refuge  at  Woodstock,  and  the  rapture 
into  which  Sir  Henry  broke  out,  the  preparations  for 
accommodation  and  defence  which  he  began  to  talk  of, 
plainly  showed  that  the  mere  enthusiasm  of  his  loyalty 
would  have  led  to  a  risk  of  discovery.  It  is  you,  AUce, 
who  must  save  the  hopes  of  every  true  Royalist.' 

'  I ! '  answered  Alice ; '  it  is  impossible.  Why  cannot  my 
father  be  induced  to  interfere,  as  in  behalf  of  his  friend 
and  guest,  though  he  know  him  as  no  other  than  Louis 
Kerneguy? ' 

'You  have  forgot  your  father's  character,  my  young 
friend,'  said  the  Doctor:  'an  excellent  man,  and  the  best 
of  Christians,  till  there  is  a  clashing  of  swords,  and  then 
he  starts  up  the  complete  martialist,  as  deaf  to  every 
pacific  reasoning  as  if  he  were  a  game-cock.' 

'You  forget.  Dr.  Rochecliffe,'  said  Alice,  'that  this 
very  morning,  if  I  understand  the  thing  aright,  my  fa- 
ther prevented  them  from  fighting.' 

'Ay,'  answered  the  Doctor,  'because  he  deemed  him- 
self bound  to  keep  the  peace  in  the  Royal  Park ;  but  it 
was  done  with  such  regret,  Alice,  that,  should  he  find 

170 


WOODSTOCK 

them  at  it  again,  I  am  clear  to  foretell  he  will  only  so  far 
postpone  the  combat  as  to  conduct  them  to  some  unpriv- 
ileged ground,  and  there  bid  them  tilt  and  welcome, 
while  he  regaled  his  eyes  with  a  scene  so  pleasing.  No, 
Ahce,  it  is  you,  and  you  only,  who  can  help  us  in  this 
extremity.' 

*I  see  no  possibility,'  said  she,  again  colouring,  'how  I 
can  be  of  the  least  use.' 

'You  must  send  a  note,'  answered  Dr.  RocheclifTe,  'to 
the  King  —  a  note  such  as  all  women  know  how  to  write 
better  than  any  man  can  teach  them  —  to  meet  you  at 
the  precise  hour  of  the  rendezvous.  He  will  not  fail  you, 
for  I  know  his  unhappy  foible.' 

*Dr.  Rochecliffe,'  said  Alice,  gravely,  'you  have 
known  me  from  infancy.  What  have  you  seen  in  me  to 
induce  you  to  believe  that  I  should  ever  follow  such  un- 
becoming counsel?' 

'And  if  you  have  known  me  from  infancy,'  retorted 
the  Doctor,  'what  have  you  seen  of  me  that  you  should 
suspect  me  of  giving  counsel  to  my  friend's  daughter 
which  it  would  be  misbecoming  in  her  to  follow?  You 
cannot  be  fool  enough,  I  think,  to  suppose  that  I  mean 
you  should  carry  your  complaisance  further  than  to 
keep  him  in  discourse  for  an  hour  or  two,  till  I  have  all 
in  readiness  for  liis  leaving  this  place,  from  which  I  can 
frighten  him  by  the  terrors  of  an  alleged  search?  So, 
C.  S.  mounts  his  horse  and  rides  off,  and  Mistress  Alice 
Lee  has  the  honour  of  saving  him.' 

'Yes,  at  the  expense  of  her  own  reputation,'  said  Alice, 
'and  the  risk  of  an  eternal  stain  on  my  family.  You  say 
you  know  all.  What  can  the  King  think  of  my  appoint- 
ing an  assignation  with  him  after  what  has  passed,  and 

171 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

how  will  it  be  possible  to  disabuse  him  respecting  the 
purpose  of  my  doing  so? ' 

'  I  will  disabuse  him,  Alice  —  I  will  explain  the  whole.' 

'Dr.  Rochecliffe,'  said  Alice,  'you  propose  what  is  im- 
possible. You  can  do  much  by  your  ready  wit  and  great 
wisdom ;  but  if  new-fallen  snow  were  once  sullied,  not  all 
your  art  would  wash  it  white  again ;  and  it  is  altogether 
the  same  with  a  maiden's  reputation.' 

'Alice,  my  dearest  child,'  said  the  Doctor,  'bethink 
you  that,  if  I  recommend  this  means  of  saving  the  Hfe  of 
the  King,  at  least  rescuing  him  from  instant  peril,  it  is 
because  I  see  no  other  of  which  to  avail  myself.  If  I  bid 
you  assume,  even  for  a  moment,  the  semblance  of  what 
is  wrong,  it  is  but  in  the  last  extremity,  and  under  cir- 
cumstances which  cannot  return.  I  will  take  the  surest 
means  to  prevent  all  evil  report  which  can  arise  from 
what  I  recommend.' 

'Say  not  so.  Doctor,'  said  Ahce:  'better  undertake  to 
turn  back  the  Isis  than  to  stop  the  course  of  calumny. 
The  King  will  make  boast  to  his  whole  licentious  court 
of  the  ease  with  which,  but  for  a  sudden  alarm,  he  could 
have  brought  off  Alice  Lee  as  a  paramour:  the  mouth 
which  confers  honour  on  others  will  then  be  the  means 
to  deprive  me  of  mine.  Take  a  fitter  course,  one  more 
becoming  your  own  character  and  profession.  Do  not 
lead  him  to  fail  in  an  engagement  of  honour,  by  holding 
out  the  prospect  of  another  engagement  equally  dishon- 
ourable, whether  false  or  true.  Go  to  the  King  himself, 
speak  to  him,  as  the  servants  of  God  have  a  right  to 
speak,  even  to  earthly  sovereigns.  Point  out  to  him  the 
folly  and  the  wickedness  of  the  course  he  is  about  to  pur- 
sue; urge  upon  him  that  he  fear  the  sword,  since  wrath 

172 


WOODSTOCK 

bringeth  the  punishment  of  the  sword.  Tell  him,  that 
the  friends  who  died  for  him  in  the  field  at  Worcester,  on 
the  scafifolds,  and  on  the  gibbets,  since  that  bloody  day, 
that  the  remnant  who  are  in  prison,  scattered,  fled,  and 
ruined  on  his  account,  deserve  better  of  him  and  his  fa- 
ther's race  than  that  he  should  throw  away  his  life  in  an 
idle  brawl.  Tell  him,  that  it  is  dishonest  to  venture 
that  which  is  not  his  own,  dishonourable  to  betra}'  the 
trust  which  brave  men  have  reposed  in  his  virtue  and 
in  his  courage.' 

Dr.  Rochecliffe  looked  on  her  with  a  melancholy  smile, 
his  eyes  glistening  as  he  said,  'Alas,  AHce,  even  I  could 
not  plead  that  just  cause  to  him  so  eloquently  or  so  im- 
pressively as  thou  dost.  But,  alack !  Charles  would  listen 
to  neither.  It  is  not  from  priests  or  women,  he  would 
say,  that  men  should  receive  counsel  in  affairs  of  honour.' 

'Then,  hear  me,  Dr.  Rochecliffe  —  I  will  appear  at 
the  place  of  rendezvous,  and  I  will  prevent  the  combat 
—  do  not  fear  that  I  can  do  what  I  say  —  at  a  sacrifice, 
indeed,  but  not  that  of  my  reputation.  My  heart  may 
be  broken  (she  endeavoured  to  stifle  her  sobs  with  diffi- 
culty) for  the  consequence;  but  not  in  the  imagination 
of  a  man,  and  far  less  that  man  her  sovereign,  shall  a 
thought  of  Alice  Lee  be  associated  with  dishonour.'  She 
hid  her  face  in  her  handkerchief,  and  burst  out  into  un- 
restrained tears. 

'What  means  this  hysterical  passion?'  said  Dr. 
Rochecfiffe,  surprised  and  somewhat  alarmed  by  the 
vehemence  of  her  grief.  '  Maiden,  I  must  have  no  con- 
cealments —  I  must  know.' 

'Exert  your  ingenuity,  then,  and  discover  it,'  said 
Alice,  for  a  moment  put  out  of  temper  at  the  Doctor's 

173 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

pertinacious  self-importance.  'Guess  my  purpose,  as 
you  can  guess  at  everything  else.  It  is  enough  to  have 
to  go  through  my  task,  I  will  not  endure  the  distress  of 
telling  it  over,  and  that  to  one  who  —  forgive  me,  dear 
Doctor  —  might  not  think  my  agitation  on  this  occa- 
sion fully  warranted.' 

'Nay,  then,  my  young  mistress,  you  must  be  ruled,' 
said  Rochecliff e ; '  and  if  I  cannot  make  you  explain  your- 
self, I  must  see  whether  your  father  can  gain  so  far  on 
you.'  So  saying,  he  arose  somewhat  displeased,  and 
walked  towards  the  door. 

'You  forget  what  you  yourself  told  me.  Dr.  Roche- 
cliffe,'  said  Alice,  'of  the  risk  of  communicating  this  great 
secret  to  my  father.' 

'It  is  too  true,'  he  said,  stopping  short  and  turning 
round;  'and  I  think,  wench,  thou  art  too  smart  for  me, 
and  I  have  not  met  many  such.  But  thou  art  a  good 
girl,  and  wilt  tell  me  thy  device  of  free-will;  it  con- 
cerns my  character  and  influence  with  the  King,  that 
I  should  be  fully  acquainted  with  whatever  is  actum 
atque  tractatum,  done  and  treated  of  in  this  matter.' 

'Trust  your  character  to  me,  good  Doctor,'  said  Alice, 
attempting  to  smile;  'it  is  of  firmer  stuff  than  those  of 
women,  and  will  be  safer  in  my  custody  than  mine  could 
have  been  in  yours.  And  thus  much  I  condescend:  you 
shall  see  the  whole  scene  —  you  shall  go  with  me  your- 
self, and  much  will  I  feel  emboldened  and  heartened  by 
your  company.' 

'That  is  something,'  said  the  Doctor,  though  not  alto- 
gether satisfied  with  this  Hmited  confidence.  '  Thou  wert 
ever  a  clever  wench,  and  I  will  trust  thee  —  indeed, 
trust  thee  I  find  I  must,  whether  voluntarily  or  no.' 

174 


WOODSTOCK 

*Meet  me,  then/  said  Alice,  'in  the  wilderness  to- 
morrow. But  first  tell  me,  are  you  well  assured  of  time 
and  place?  a  mistake  were  fatal.' 

'Assure  yourself  my  information  is  entirely  accurate,* 
said  the  Doctor,  resuming  his  air  of  consequence,  which 
had  been  a  little  diminished  during  the  latter  part  of 
their  conference. 

'May  I  ask,'  said  Alice,  'through  what  channel  you 
acquired  such  important  information?' 

'You  may  ask,  unquestionably,'  he  answered,  now 
completely  restored  to  his  supremacy;  'but  whether  I 
will  answer  or  not  is  a  very  different  question.  I  conceive 
neither  your  reputation  nor  my  own  is  interested  in  your 
remaining  in  ignorance  on  that  subject.  So  I  have  my 
secrets  as  well  as  you,  mistress;  and  some  of  them,  I 
fancy,  are  a  good  deal  more  worth  knowing.' 

'Be  it  so,'  said  Alice,  quietly;  'if  you  will  meet  me  in 
the  wilderness  by  the  broken  dial  at  half-past  five  ex- 
actly, we  will  go  together  to-morrow,  and  watch  them  as 
they  come  to  the  rendezvous.  I  will  on  the  way  get  the 
better  of  my  present  timidity,  and  explain  to  you  the 
means  I  design  to  employ  to  prevent  mischief.  You  can 
perhaps  think  of  making  some  effort  which  may  render 
my  interference,  unbecoming  and  painful  as  it  must  be, 
altogether  unnecessary.' 

'Nay,  my  child,'  said  the  Doctor,  'if  you  place  your- 
self in  my  hands,  you  will  be  the  first  that  ever  had  rea- 
son to  complain  of  my  want  of  conduct,  and  you  may 
well  judge  you  are  the  very  last  —  one  excepted  — 
whom  I  would  see  suffer  for  want  of  counsel.  At  half- 
past  five,  then,  at  the  dial  in  the  wilderness,  and  God 
bless  our  undertaking!' 

175 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Here  their  interview  was  interrupted  by  the  sonorous 
voice  of  Sir  Henry  Lee,  which  shouted  their  names, 
'Daughter  Ahce  —  Dr.  Rochecliffe,'  through  passage 
and  gallery. 

'What  do  you  here,'  said  he,  entering,  'sitting  like  two 
crows  in  a  mist,  when  we  have  such  rare  sport  below? 
Here  is  this  wild,  crackbrained  boy  Louis  Kerneguy, 
now  making  me  laugh  till  my  sides  are  fit  to  split,  and 
now  playing  on  his  guitar  sweetly  enough  to  win  a  lark 
from  the  heavens.  Come  away  with  you  —  come  away. 
It  is  hard  work  to  laugh  alone.' 


CHAPTER  XXVin' 

This  is  the  place,  the  centre  of  the  grove; 
Here  stands  the  oak,  the  monarch  of  the  wood. 

John  Home 

The  sun  had  risen  on  the  broad  boughs  of  the  forest,  but 
without  the  power  of  penetrating  into  its  recesses,  which 
hung  rich  with  heavy  dewdrops,  and  were  beginning  on 
some  of  the  trees  to  exhibit  the  varied  tints  of  autumn; 
it  being  the  season  when  nature,  hke  a  prodigal  whose 
race  is  welhiigh  run,  seems  desirous  to  make  up  in  pro- 
fuse gaiety  and  variety  of  colours  for  the  short  space 
which  her  splendour  has  then  to  endure.  The  birds  were 
silent;  and  even  Robin  Redbreast,  whose  chirruping 
song  was  heard  among  the  bushes  near  the  lodge,  em- 
boldened by  the  largesses  with  which  the  good  old  knight 
always  encouraged  his  familiarity,  did  not  venture  into 
the  recesses  of  the  wood,  where  he  encountered  the 
sparrow-hawk  and  other  enemies  of  a  similar  descrip- 
tion, preferring  the  vicinity  of  the  dwellings  of  man, 
from  whom  he,  almost  solely  among  the  feathered  tribes, 
seems  to  experience  disinterested  protection. 

The  scene  was  therefore  at  once  lovely  and  silent, 
when  the  good  Dr.  Rochecliffe,  wrapped  in  a  scarlet 
roquelaure,  which  had  seen  service  in  its  day,  mufHing 
his  face  more  from  habit  than  necessity,  and  supporting 
Alice  on  his  arm,  she  also  defended  by  a  cloak  against 
the  cold  and  damp  of  the  autumn  morning,  glided 
through  the  tangled  and  long  grass  of  the  darkest  alleys, 
38  177 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

almost  ankle-deep  in  dew,  towards  the  place  appointed 
for  the  intended  duel.  Both  so  eagerly  maintained  the 
consultation  in  which  they  were  engaged,  that  they  were 
alike  insensible  of  the  roughness  and  discomforts  of  the 
road,  though  often  obliged  to  force  their  way  through 
brushwood  and  coppice,  which  poured  down  on  them 
all  the  liquid  pearls  with  which  they  were  loaded,  till  the 
mantles  they  were  wrapped  in  hung  lank  by  their  sides, 
and  clung  to  their  shoulders  heavily  charged  with  moist- 
ure. They  stopped  when  they  had  attained  a  station 
under  the  coppice,  and  shrouded  by  it,  from  which  they 
could  see  all  that  passed  on  the  Httle  esplanade  before 
the  King's  Oak,  whose  broad  and  scathed  form,  con- 
torted and  shattered  limbs,  and  frowning  brows  made 
it  appear  like  some  ancient  war-worn  champion,  well 
selected  to  be  the  umpire  of  a  field  of  single  combat. 

The  first  person  who  appeared  at  the  rendezvous  was 
the  gay  Cavaher  Roger  Wildrake.  He  also  was  wrapped 
in  his  cloak,  but  had  discarded  his  Puritanic  beaver,  and 
wore  in  its  stead  a  Spanish  hat,  with  a  feather  and  gilt 
hat-band,  all  of  which  had  encountered  bad  weather  and 
hard  service ;  but  to  make  amends  for  the  appearance  of 
poverty  by  the  show  of  pretension,  the  castor  was  accur- 
ately adjusted  after  what  was  rather  profanely  called 
the  d — me  cut,  used  among  the  more  desperate 
Cavahers.  He  advanced  hastily,  and  exclaimed  aloud, 
'First  in  the  field  after  all,  by  Jove,  though  I  bilked 
Everard  in  order  to  have  my  morning  draught.  It  has 
done  me  much  good,'  he  added,  smacking  his  lips.  'Well, 
I  suppose  I  should  search  the  ground  ere  my  principal 
comes  up,  whose  Presbyterian  watch  trudges  as  slow  as 
his  Presbyterian  step.' 

178 


WOODSTOCK 

He  took  his  rapier  from  under  his  cloak,  and  seemed 
about  to  search  the  thickets  around. 

*I  will  prevent  him,'  whispered  the  Doctor  to  Alice. 
*I  will  keep  faith  with  you:  you  shall  not  come  on  the 
scene,  nisi  digitus  vindice  nodus;  I'll  explain  that  an- 
other time.  Vindex  is  feminine  as  well  as  masculine,  so 
the  quotation  is  defensible.  Keep  you  close.' 

So  saying,  he  stepped  forward  on  the  esplanade,  and 
bowed  to  Wildrake. 

'Master  Louis  Kemeguy,'  said  Wildrake,  pulling  off 
his  hat;  but  instantly  discovering  his  error,  he  added, 
'But  no  —  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir  —  fatter,  shorter, 
older.  Mr.  Kerneguy's  friend,  I  suppose,  with  whom  I 
hope  to  have  a  turn  by  and  by.  And  why  not  now,  sir, 
before  our  principals  come  up?  just  a  snack  to  stay  the 
orifice  of  the  stomach,  till  the  dinner  is  served,  sir. 
What  say  you? ' 

*  To  open  the  orifice  of  the  stomach  more  likely,  or  to 
give  it  a  new  one,'  said  the  Doctor. 

'True,  sir,'  said  Roger,  who  seemed  now  in  his  ele- 
ment: 'you  say  well  —  that  is  as  thereafter  may  be. 
But  come,  sir,  you  wear  your  face  mufiled.  I  grant 
you,  it  is  honest  men's  fashion  at  this  unhappy  time; 
the  more  is  the  pity.  But  we  do  all  above  board:  we 
have  no  traitors  here.  I'll  get  into  my  gears  first,  to 
encourage  you,  and  show  you  that  you  have  to  deal 
with  a  gentleman,  who  honours  the  King,  and  is  a 
match  fit  to  fight  with  any  who  follow  him,  as  doubt- 
less you  do,  sir,  since  you  are  the  friend  of  Master 
Louis  Kemeguy.' 

All  this  while,  Wildrake  was  busied  undoing  the 
clasps  of  his  square-caped  cloak. 

179 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

*Off  —  off,  ye  lendings,'  he  said,  'borrowings  I  should 
more  properly  call  you  — 

Via  the  curtain  which  shadow'd  Borgia!' 

So  saying,  he  threw  the  cloak  from  him  and  appeared 
in  cuerpo,  in  a  most  Cavalier-like  doublet,  of  greasy 
crimson  satin,  pinked  and  slashed  with  what  had  been 
once  white  tiffany;  breeches  of  the  same;  and  nether- 
stocks,  or,  as  we  now  call  them,  stockings,  darned  in 
many  places,  and  which,  like  those  of  Poins,  had  been 
once  peach-coloured.  A  pair  of  pumps,  ill  calculated  for 
a  walk  through  the  dew,  and  a  broad  shoulder-belt  of 
tarnished  embroidery,  completed  his  equipment. 

'Come,  sir,'  he  exclaimed,  'make  haste,  off  with  your 
slough.  Here  I  stand  tight  and  true,  as  loyal  a  lad  as 
ever  stuck  rapier  through  a  Roundhead.  Come,  sir,  to 
your  tools!'  he  continued;  'we  may  have  half  a  dozen 
thrusts  before  they  come  yet,  and  shame  them  for  their 
tardiness.  Pshaw ! '  he  exclaimed,  in  a  most  disappointed 
tone,  when  the  Doctor,  unfolding  his  cloak,  showed  his 
clerical  dress.  'Tush!  it's  but  the  parson  after  all.' 

Wildrake's  respect  for  the  church,  however,  and  his 
desire  to  remove  one  who  might  possibly  interrupt  a 
scene  to  which  he  looked  forward  with  pecuhar  satisfac- 
tion, induced  him  presently  to  assume  another  tone. 

'I  beg  pardon,'  he  said,  'my  dear  Doctor.  I  kiss  the 
hem  of  your  cassock  —  I  do,  by  the  thundering  Jove  — 
I  beg  your  pardon  again.  But  I  am  happy  I  have  met 
with  you :  they  are  raving  for  your  presence  at  the  lodge 
—  to  marry,  or  christen,  or  bury,  or  confess,  or  some- 
thing very  urgent.  For  Heaven's  sake,  make  haste!' 

'At  the  lodge?'  said  the  Doctor.    'Why,  I  left  the 

i8o 


WOODSTOCK 

lodge  this  instant  —  I  was  there  later,  I  am  sure,  than 
you  could  be,  who  came  the  Woodstock  road.' 

'Well,'  replied  Wildrake,  *it  is  at  Woodstock  they 
want  you.  Rat  it,  did  I  say  the  lodge?  No,  no  —  Wood- 
stock. Mine  host  cannot  be  hanged  —  his  daughter 
married  —  his  bastard  christened  —  or  his  wife  buried, 
without  the  assistance  of  a  real  clergyman.  Your 
Holdenoughs  won't  do  for  them.  He 's  a  true  man,  mine 
host;  so,  as  you  value  your  function,  make  haste.' 

'You  will  pardon  me,  Master  Wildrake,'  said  the 
Doctor:  'I  wait  for  Master  Louis  Kerneguy.' 

'The  devil  you  do!'  exclaimed  Wildrake.  'Why,  I  al- 
ways knew  the  Scots  could  do  nothing  without  their 
minister;  but,  d — n  it,  I  never  thought  they  put  them 
to  this  use  neither.  But  I  have  known  jolly  customers  in 
orders,  who  understood  to  handle  the  sword  as  well  as 
their  Prayer  Book.  You  know  the  purpose  of  our  meet- 
ing, Doctor.  Do  you  come  only  as  a  ghostly  comforter 
—  or  as  a  surgeon,  perhaps  —  or  do  you  ever  take  bilboa 
in  hand?  Sa  —  sa!' 

Here  he  made  a  fencing  demonstration  with  his 
sheathed  rapier. 

'  I  have  done  so,  sir,  on  necessary  occasion,'  said  Dr. 
Rochecliffe. 

'Good,  sir,  let  this  stand  for  a  necessary  one,'  said 
Wildrake.  'You  know  my  devotion  for  the  church.  If  a 
divine  of  your  skill  would  do  me  the  honour  to  exchange 
but  three  passes  with  me,  I  should  think  myself  happy 
for  ever.' 

'Sir,'  said  Rochecliffe,  smiling,  'were  there  no  other 
objection  to  what  you  propose,  I  have  not  the  means:  I 
have  no  weapon.' 

i8i 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

*  What!  you  want  the  de  quoi?  that  is  unlucky  indeed. 
But  you  have  a  stout  cane  in  your  hand;  what  hinders 
our  trying  a  pass,  my  rapier  being  sheathed,  of  course, 
until  our  principals  come  up?  My  pumps  are  full  of  this 
frost-dew;  and  I  shall  be  a  toe  or  two  out  of  pocket 
if  I  am  to  stand  still  all  the  time  they  are  stretching 
themselves;  for,  I  fancy.  Doctor,  you  are  of  my  opin- 
ion, that  the  matter  will  not  be  a  fight  of  cock-spar- 
rows.' 

'My  business  here  is  to  make  it,  if  possible,  be  no  fight 
at  all,'  said  the  divine. 

'Now,  rat  me,  Doctor,  but  that  is  too  spiteful,'  said 
Wildrake;  'and  were  it  not  for  my  respect  for  the 
church,  I  could  turn  Presbyterian,  to  be  revenged.' 

'Stand  back  a  Httle,  if  you  please,  sir,'  said  the  Doc- 
tor: 'do  not  press  forward  in  that  direction.'  For 
Wildrake,  in  the  agitation  of  his  movements,  induced  by 
his  disappointment,  approached  the  spot  where  Alice 
remained  still  concealed. 

'And  wherefore  not,  I  pray  you.  Doctor?'  said  the 
Cavalier. 

But  on  advancing  a  step,  he  suddenly  stopped  short 
and  muttered  to  himself,  with  a  round  oath  of  aston- 
ishment, 'A  petticoat  in  the  coppice,  by  all  that  is  rever- 
end, and  at  this  hour  in  the  morning  —  whew-ew-ew!' 
He  gave  vent  to  his  surprise  in  a  long,  low,  interjectional 
whistle;  then  turning  to  the  Doctor,  with  his  finger  on 
the  side  of  his  nose,  'You're  sly.  Doctor  —  d — d  sly! 
But  why  not  give  me  a  hint  of  your  —  your  commodity 
there  —  your  contraband  goods?  Gad,  sir,  I  am  not 
a  man  to  expose  the  eccentricities  of  the  church.' 

'Sir,'  said  Dr.  Rochecliffe,  'you  are  impertinent;  and 
182 


WOODSTOCK 

if  time  served,  and  it  were  worth  my  while,  I  would 
chastise  you.' 

And  the  Doctor,  who  had  served  long  enough  in  the 
wars  to  have  added  some  of  the  qualities  of  a  captain  of 
horse  to  those  of  a  divine,  actually  raised  his  cane,  to  the 
infinite  delight  of  the  rake,  whose  respect  for  the  church 
was  by  no  means  able  to  subdue  his  love  of  mischief. 

'Nay,  Doctor,'  said  he,  'if  you  wield  your  weapon 
backsword  fashion  in  that  way,  and  raise  it  as  high  as 
your  head,  I  shall  be  through  you  in  a  twinkling.'  So 
saying,  he  made  a  pass  with  his  sheathed  rapier,  not  pre- 
cisely at  the  Doctor's  person,  but  in  that  direction; 
when  Rochecliffe,  changing  the  direction  of  his  cane 
from  the  broadsword  guard  to  that  of  the  rapier,  made 
the  Cavalier's  sword  spring  ten  yards  out  of  his  hand, 
with  all  the  dexterity  of  my  friend  Francalanza.  At  this 
moment  both  the  principal  parties  appeared  on  the  field. 

Everard  exclaimed  angrily  to  Wildrake,  '  Is  this  your 
friendship?  In  Heaven's  name,  what  make  you  in  that 
fool's  jacket,  and  playing  the  pranks  of  a  jack-pudding? ' 
while  his  worthy  second,  somewhat  crestfallen,  held 
down  his  head,  like  a  boy  caught  in  roguery,  and  went  to 
pick  up  his  weapon,  stretching  his  head,  as  he  passed, 
into  the  coppice,  to  obtain  another  glimpse,  if  possible, 
of  the  concealed  object  of  his  curiosity. 

Charles,  in  the  meantime,  still  more  surprised  at  what 
he  beheld,  called  out  on  his  part —  'What I  Dr.  Roche- 
cliffe become  literally  one  of  the  church  mihtant,  and 
tilting  with  my  friend  Cavalier  Wildrake?  May  I  use  the 
freedom  to  ask  him  to  withdraw,  as  Colonel  Everard  and 
I  have  some  private  business  to  settle?' 

It  was  Dr.  Rochecliffe's  cue,  on  this  important  occa- 

183 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

sion,  to  have  armed  himself  with  the  authority  of  his 
sacred  office,  and  used  a  tone  of  interference  which 
might  have  overawed  even  a  monarch,  and  made  him 
feel  that  his  monitor  spoke  by  a  warrant  higher  than  his 
own.  But  the  indiscreet  latitude  he  had  just  given  to  his 
own  passion,  and  the  levity  in  which  he  had  been  de- 
tected, were  very  unfavourable  to  his  assuming  that 
superiority  to  which  so  uncontrollable  a  spirit  as  that  of 
Charles,  wilful  as  a  prince  and  capricious  as  a  wit,  was  at 
all  likely  to  submit.  The  Doctor  did,  however,  endeav- 
our to  rally  his  dignity,  and  replied,  with  the  gravest, 
and  at  the  same  time  the  most  respectful,  tone  he  could 
assume,  that  he  also  had  business  of  the  most  urgent  na- 
ture, which  prevented  him  from  complying  with  Master 
Kerneguy's  wishes  and  leaving  that  spot. 

'Excuse  this  untimely  interruption,'  said  Charles, 
taking  off  his  hat  and  bowing  to  Colonel  Everard, 
*  which  I  will  immediately  put  an  end  to.' 

Everard  gravely  returned  his  salute,  and  was  silent. 

'Are  you  mad,  Dr.  Rochecliffe? '  said  Charles;  *or  are 
you  deaf  ?  or  have  you  forgotten  your  mother-tongue?  I 
desired  you  to  leave  this  place.' 

'I  am  not  mad,'  said  the  divine,  rousing  up  his  resolu- 
tion, and  regaining  the  natural  firmness  of  his  voice;  *I 
would  prevent  others  from  being  so.  I  am  not  deaf;  I 
would  pray  others  to  hear  the  voice  of  reason  and  re- 
ligion. I  have  not  forgotten  my  mother- tongue;  but  I 
have  come  hither  to  speak  the  language  of  the  Master  of 
kings  and  princes.' 

'To  fence  with  broomsticks,  I  should  rather  suppose,' 
said  the  King.  *  Come,  Dr.  Rochecliffe,  this  sudden  fit  of 
assumed  importance  befits  you  as  httle  as  your  late  frolic. 

184 


WOODSTOCK 

You  are  not,  I  apprehend,  either  a  Catholic  priest  or  a 
Scotch  Mass  John,  to  claim  devoted  obedience  from 
your  hearers,  but  a  Church  of  England  man,  subject  to 
the  rules  of  that  communion  —  and  to  its  Head.'  In 
speaking  the  last  words,  the  King  lowered  his  voice  to 
a  low  and  impressive  whisper.  Everard  observing  this 
drew  back,  the  natural  generosity  of  his  temper  direct- 
ing him  to  avoid  overhearing  private  discourse  in  which 
the  safety  of  the  speakers  might  be  deeply  concerned. 
They  continued,  however,  to  observe  great  caution  in 
their  forms  of  expression. 

'Master  Kerneguy,'  said  the  clergyman,  'it  is  not  I 
who  assume  authority  or  control  over  your  wishes —  God 
forbid:  I  do  but  tell  you  what  reason,  Scripture,  religion, 
and  morality  alike  prescribe  for  your  rule  of  conduct.' 

'And  I,  Doctor,'  said  the  King,  smiling,  and  pointing 
to  the  unlucky  cane, '  will  take  your  example  rather  than 
your  precept.  If  a  reverend  clergyman  will  himself  fight 
a  bout  at  single-stick,  what  right  can  he  have  to  interfere 
in  gentlemen's  quarrels?  Come,  sir,  remove  yourself, 
and  do  not  let  your  present  obstinacy  cancel  former 
obligations.' 

'Bethink  yourself,'  said  the  divine,  'I  can  say  one 
word  which  will  prevent  all  this.' 

'Do  it,'  replied  the  King,  'and  in  doing  so  belie  the 
whole  tenor  and  actions  of  an  honourable  life:  abandon 
the  principles  of  your  church,  and  become  a  perjured 
traitor  and  an  apostate,  to  prevent  another  person  from 
discharging  his  duty  as  a  gentleman.  This  were  indeed 
killing  your  friend  to  prevent  the  risk  of  his  running 
himself  into  danger.  Let  the  passive  obedience  which  is 
so  often  in  your  mouth,  and  no  doubt  in  your  head,  put 

i8s 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

your  feet  for  once  into  motion,  and  step  aside  for  ten 
minutes.  Within  that  space  your  assistance  may  be 
needed,  either  as  body-curer  or  soul-curer.' 

'Nay,  then,'  said  Dr.  Rochecliffe,  'I  have  but  one 
argument  left.' 

While  this  conversation  was  carried  on  apart,  Everard 
had  almost  forcibly  detained  by  his  own  side  his  fol- 
lower Wildrake,  whose  greater  curiosity  and  lesser  deli- 
cacy would  otherwise  have  thrust  him  forward,  to  get, 
if  possible,  into  the  secret.  But  when  he  saw  the  Doctor 
turn  into  the  coppice,  he  whispered  eagerly  to  Everard 
— '  A  gold  Carolus  to  a  Commonwealth  farthing,  the 
Doctor  has  not  only  come  to  preach  a  peace,  but  has 
brought  the  principal  conditions  along  with  him.' 

Everard  made  no  answer;  he  had  already  unsheathed 
his  sword,  and  Charles  hardly  saw  Rochecliffe's  back 
fairly  turned  than  he  lost  no  time  in  following  his  exam- 
ple. But,  ere  they  had  done  more  than  salute  each  other 
with  the  usual  courteous  flourish  of  their  weapons.  Dr. 
Rochecliffe  again  stood  between  them,  leading  in  his 
hand  Alice  Lee,  her  garments  dank  with  dew,  and  her 
long  hair  heavy  with  moisture  and  totally  uncurled. 
Her  face  was  extremely  pale,  but  it  was  the  paleness  of 
desperate  resolution,  not  of  fear.  There  was  a  dead 
pause  of  astonishment :  the  combatants  rested  on  their 
swords,  and  even  the  forwardness  of  Wildrake  only 
vented  itself  in  half-suppressed  ejaculations,  as,  'Well 
done.  Doctor  —  this  beats  the  "parson  among  the 
pease."  No  less  than  your  patron's  daughter.  And 
Mistress  Alice,  whom  I  thought  a  very  snowdrop,  turned 
out  a  dog-violet  after  all  —  a  Lindabrides,  by  Heavens, 
and  altogether  one  of  ourselves!' 

i86 


WOODSTOCK 

Excepting  these  unheeded  mutterings,  Alice  was  the 
first  to  speak. 

'Master  Everard,'  she  said  —  'Master  Kerneguy,  you 
are  surprised  to  see  me  here.  Yet,  why  should  I  not  tell 
the  reason  at  once?  Con\T[nced  that  I  am,  however 
guiltlessly,  the  unhappy  cause  of  your  misunderstand- 
ing, I  am  too  much  interested  to  prevent  fatal  conse- 
quences to  pause  upon  any  step  which  may  end  it. 
Master  Kerneguy,  have  my  wishes,  my  entreaties,  my 
prayers  —  have  your  noble  thoughts,  the  recollections 
of  your  own  high  duties,  no  weight  with  you  in  this 
matter?  Let  me  entreat  you  to  consult  reason,  religion, 
and  common  sense,  and  return  your  weapon.' 

*I  am  obedient  as  an  Eastern  slave,  madam,'  answered 
Charles,  sheathing  his  sword;  'but  I  assure  you,  the 
matter  about  which  you  distress  yourself  is  a  mere 
trifle,  which  will  be  much  better  settled  betwixt  Colonel 
Everard  and  myself  in  five  minutes  than  with  the 
assistance  of  the  whole  convocation  of  the  church,  with 
a  female  parliament  to  assist  their  reverend  delibera- 
tions. Mr.  Everard,  will  you  obHge  me  by  walking  a 
little  farther?  We  must  change  ground,  it  seems.' 

'I  am  ready  to  attend  you,  sir,'  said  Everard,  who  had 
sheathed  his  sword  so  soon  as  his  antagonist  did  so. 

*  I  have  then  no  interest  with  you,  sir,'  said  Alice,  con- 
tinuing to  address  the  King.  '  Do  you  not  fear  I  should 
use  the  secret  in  my  power  to  prevent  this  affair  going  to 
extremity?  Think  you  this  gentleman,  who  raises  his 
hand  against  you,  if  he  knew  — ' 

'If  he  knew  that  I  were  Lord  Wihnot,  madam,  you 
would  say?  Accident  has  given  him  proof  to  that  effect, 
with  which  he  is  already  satisfied,  and  I  think  you  would 

187 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

find  it  difficult  to  induce  him  to  embrace  a  different 
opinion.' 

Alice  paused,  and  looked  on  the  King  with  great  indig- 
nation, the  following  words  dropping  from  her  mouth  by 
intervals,  as  if  they  burst  forth  one  by  one  in  spite  of 
feelings  that  would  have  restrained  them  —  'Cold — self- 
ish —  ungrateful  —  unkind!  Woe  to  the  land  which  — ' 
here  she  paused  with  marked  emphasis,  then  added  — 
*  which  shall  number  thee,  or  such  as  thee,  among  her 
nobles  and  rulers ! ' 

'Nay,  fair  Alice,'  said  Charles,  whose  good-nature 
could  not  but  feel  the  severity  of  this  reproach,  though 
too  slightly  to  make  all  the  desired  impression,  'you  are 
too  unjust  to  me  —  too  partial  to  a  happier  man.  Do 
not  call  me  unkind :  I  am  but  here  to  answer  Mr.  Ever- 
ard's  summons.  I  could  neither  decline  attending  nor 
withdraw  now  I  am  here  without  loss  of  honour;  and  my 
loss  of  honour  would  be  a  disgrace  which  must  extend  to 
many.  I  cannot  fly  from  Mr.  Everard :  it  would  be  too 
shameful.  If  he  abides  by  his  message,  it  must  be  de- 
cided as  such  affairs  usually  are.  If  he  retreats  or  yields 
it  up,  I  will,  for  your  sake,  wave  punctilio.  I  will  not 
even  ask  an  apology  for  the  trouble  it  has  afforded  me, 
but  let  all  pass  as  if  it  were  the  consequence  of  some  un- 
happy mistake,  the  grounds  of  which  shall  remain  on  my 
part  uninquired  into.  This  I  will  do  for  your  sake,  and 
it  is  much  for  a  man  of  honour  to  condescend  so  far.  You 
know  that  the  condescension  from  me  in  particular  is 
great  indeed.  Then  do  not  call  me  ungenerous,  or  un- 
grateful or  unkind,  since  I  am  ready  to  do  all  which,  as  a 
man,  I  can  do,  and  more  perhaps  than  as  a  man  of  hon- 
our I  ought  to  do.' 

i88 


WOODSTOCK 

'Do  you  hear  this,  Markham  Everard,'  exclaimed 
Alice  —  'do  you  hear  this?  The  dreadful  option  is  left 
entirely  at  your  disposal.  You  were  wont  to  be  temper- 
ate in  passion,  religious,  forgivdng;  will  you,  for  a  mere 
punctilio,  drive  on  this  private  and  unchristian  broil  to  a 
murderous  extremity?  Believe  me,  if  you  now,  contrary 
to  all  the  better  principles  of  your  life,  give  the  reins  to 
your  passions,  the  consequences  may  be  such  as  you  will 
rue  for  your  lifetime,  and  even,  if  Heaven  have  not 
mercy,  rue  after  your  life  is  finished.' 

Markham  Everard  remained  for  a  moment  gloomily 
silent,  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  ground.  At  length  he 
looked  up  and  answered  her.  'Alice  you  are  a  soldier's 
daughter,  a  soldier's  sister.  All  your  relations,  even 
including  one  whom  you  then  entertained  some  regard 
for,  have  been  made  soldiers  by  these  unhappy  discords. 
Yet  you  have  seen  them  take  the  field,  in  some  in- 
stances on  contrary  sides,  to  do  their  duty  where  their 
principles  called  them,  without  manifesting  this  extreme 
degree  of  interest.  Answer  me  —  and  your  answer  shall 
decide  my  conduct  —  Is  this  youth,  so  short  while 
known,  already  of  more  value  to  you  than  those  dear 
connexions,  father,  brother,  and  kinsman,  whose  depart- 
ure to  battle  you  saw  with  comparative  indifference?  Say 
this,  and  it  shall  be  enough:  I  leave  the  ground,  never  to 
see  you  or  this  country  again.' 

'Stay,  Markham  —  stay;  and  believe  me  when  I  say 
that,  if  I  answer  your  question  in  the  affirmative,  it  is 
because  Master  Kerneguy's  safety  comprehends  more 
—  much  more  than  that  of  any  of  those  you  have  men- 
tioned.' 

'  Indeed !  I  did  not  know  a  coronet  had  been  so  superior 

189 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

in  value  to  the  crest  of  a  private  gentleman,'  said  Ever- 
ard;  'yet  I  have  heard  that  many  women  think  so.' 

'You  apprehend  me  amiss/  said  Alice,  perplexed  be- 
tween the  difficulty  of  so  expressing  herself  as  to  prevent 
immediate  mischief,  and  at  the  same  time  anxious  to 
combat  the  jealousy  and  disarm  the  resentment  which 
she  saw  arising  in  the  bosom  of  her  lover.  But  she  found 
no  words  fine  enough  to  draw  the  distinction,  without 
leading  to  a  discovery  of  the  King's  actual  character, 
and  perhaps,  in  consequence,  to  his  destruction.  'Mark- 
ham,'  she  said, '  have  compassion  on  me.  Press  me  not  at 
this  moment;  believe  me,  the  honour  and  happiness  of 
my  father,  of  my  brother,  and  of  my  whole  family  are  in- 
terested in  Master  Kemeguy's  safety — are  inextricably 
concerned  in  this  matter  resting  where  it  now  does.' 

'Oh,  ay,  I  doubt  not,'  said  Everard:  'the  house  of 
Lee  ever  looked  up  to  nobiUty,  and  valued  in  their  con- 
nexions the  fantastic  loyalty  of  a  courtier  beyond  the 
sterHng  and  honest  patriotism  of  a  plain  country  gentle- 
man. For  them,  the  thing  is  in  course.  But  on  your 
part  —  you,  Alice  —  O !  on  your  part,  whom  I  have 
loved  so  dearly,  who  has  suffered  me  to  think  that  my 
affection  was  not  unrepaid  —  can  the  attractions  of  an 
empty  title,  the  idle  court  compHments  of  a  mere  man  of 
quality,  during  only  a  few  hours,  lead  you  to  prefer  a 
libertine  lord  to  such  a  heart  as  mine? ' 

'No  —  no  —  believe  me,  no,'  said  Alice,  in  the  extrem- 
ity of  distress. 

'Put  your  answer,  which  seems  so  painful,  in  one  word, 
and  say  for  whose  safety  it  is  you  are  thus  deeply  in- 
terested? ' 

'For  both  —  for  both,'  said  Alice. 
190 


WOODSTOCK 

'That  answer  will  not  serve,  Alice,'  answered  Everard; 
'here  is  no  room  for  equality,  I  must  and  will  know  to 
what  I  have  to  trust.  I  understand  not  the  paltering 
which  makes  a  maiden  unwilling  to  decide  betwixt  two 
suitors;  nor  would  I  willingly  impute  to  you  the  vanity 
that  cannot  remain  contented  with  one  lover  at  once.' 

The  vehemence  of  Everard's  displeasure,  when  he  sup- 
posed his  own  long  and  sincere  devotion  lightly  forgotten 
amid  the  addresses  of  a  profligate  courtier,  awakened 
the  spirit  of  Ahce  Lee,  who,  as  we  elsewhere  said,  had  a 
portion  in  her  temper  of  the  lion  humour  that  was  char- 
acteristic of  her  family. 

'If  I  am  thus  misinterpreted,'  she  said,  —  'if  I  am 
not  judged  worthy  of  the  least  confidence  or  candid  con- 
struction, hear  my  declaration,  and  my  assurance  that, 
strange  as  my  words  may  seem,  they  are,  when  truly  in- 
terpreted, such  as  do  you  no  wrong.  I  tell  you  —  I  tell 
all  present,  and  I  tell  this  gentleman  himself,  who  well 
knows  the  sense  in  which  I  speak,  that  his  life  and 
safety  are,  or  ought  to  be,  of  more  value  to  me  than 
those  of  any  other  man  in  the  kingdom  —  nay,  in  the 
world,  be  that  other  who  he  will.' 

These  words  she  spoke  in  a  tone  so  firm  and  decided 
as  admitted  no  further  discussion.  Charles  bowed  low 
and  with  gravity,  but  remained  silent.  Everard,  his  fea- 
tures agitated  by  the  emotions  which  his  pride  barely 
enabled  him  to  suppress,  advanced  to  his  antagonist, 
and  said,  in  a  tone  which  he  vainly  endeavoured  to  make 
a  firm  one,  '  Sir,  you  heard  the  lady's  declaration,  with 
such  feelings,  doubtless,  of  gratitude  as  the  case  emi- 
nently demands.  As  her  poor  kinsman,  and  an  unwor- 
thy suitor,  sir,  I  presume  to  yield  my  interest  in  her  to 

191 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

you ;  and,  as  I  will  never  be  the  means  of  giving  her  pain, 
I  trust  you  will  not  think  I  act  unworthily  in  retracting 
the  letter  which  gave  you  the  trouble  of  attending  this 
place  at  this  hour.  Alice,'  he  said,  turning  his  head  to- 
wards her  —  'farewell,  Alice,  at  once  and  for  ever!' 

The  poor  yoiing  lady,  whose  adventitious  spirit  had 
almost  deserted  her,  attempted  to  repeat  the  word  'fare- 
well,' but,  failing  in  the  attempt,  only  accomplished  a 
broken  and  imperfect  sound,  and  would  have  sunk  to 
the  ground,  but  for  Dr.  Rochecliffe,  who  caught  her  as 
she  fell.  Roger  Wildrake,  also,  who  had  twice  or  thrice 
put  to  his  eyes  what  remained  of  a  kerchief,  interested 
by  the  lady's  evident  distress,  though  unable  to  com- 
prehend the  mysterious  cause,  hastened  to  assist  the 
divine  in  supporting  so  fair  a  burden. 

Meanwhile,  the  disguised  prince  had  beheld  the  whole 
in  silence,  but  with  an  agitation  to  which  he  was  un- 
wonted, and  which  his  swarthy  features,  and  still  more 
his  motions,  began  to  betray.  His  posture  was  at  first 
absolutely  stationary,  with  his  arms  folded  on  his  bosom, 
as  one  who  waits  to  be  guided  by  the  current  of  events; 
presently  after,  he  shifted  his  position,  advanced  and 
retired  his  foot,  clenched  and  opened  his  hand,  and  other- 
wise showed  symptoms  that  he  was  strongly  agitated 
by  contending  feehngs,  was  on  the  point,  too,  of  forming 
some  sudden  resolution,  and  yet  still  in  uncertainty  what 
course  he  should  pursue.  But  when  he  saw  Markham 
Everard,  after  one  look  of  unspeakable  anguish  towards 
Alice,  turning  his  back  to  depart,  he  broke  out  into  his 
familiar  ejaculation,  'Odds-fish!  this  must  not  be.'  In 
three  strides  he  overtook  the  slowly-retiring  Everard, 
tapped  him  smartly  on  the  shoulder,  and,  as  he  turned 

192 


WOODSTOCK 

round,  said,  with  an  air  of  command,  which  he  well 
knew  how  to  adopt  at  pleasure,  'One  word  with  you, 
sir/ 

'At  your  pleasure,  sir,'  replied  Everard,  and,  natur- 
ally conjecturing  the  purpose  of  his  antagonist  to  be  hos- 
tile, took  hold  of  his  rapier  with  the  left  hand,  and  laid 
the  right  on  the  hilt,  not  displeased  at  the  supposed  call; 
for  anger  is  at  least  as  much  akin  to  disappointment  as 
pity  is  said  to  be  to  love. 

'Pshaw!'  answered  the  King,  'that  cannot  be  now. 
Colonel  Everard,  I  am  Charles  Stuart!' 

Everard  recoiled  in  the  greatest  surprise,  and  next 
exclaimed,  'Impossible  —  it  cannot  be!  The  King  of 
Scots  has  escaped  from  Bristol.  My  Lord  Wilmot,  your 
talents  for  intrigue  are  well  known,  but  this  will  not  pass 
upon  me.' 

'The  King  of  Scots,  Master  Everard,'  replied  Charles, 
'since  you  are  so  pleased  to  limit  his  sovereignty  —  at 
any  rate,  the  eldest  son  of  the  late  sovereign  of  Britain 
—  is  now  before  you ;  therefore  it  is  impossible  he  could 
have  escaped  from  Bristol.  Dr.  Rochecliffe  shall  be  my 
voucher,  and  will  tell  you,  moreover,  that  Wilmot  is  of  a 
fair  complexion  and  light  hair;  mine,  you  may  see,  is 
swart  as  a  raven.' 

Rocheclifife,  seeing  what  was  passing,  abandoned 
Alice  to  the  care  of  Wildrake,  whose  extreme  deHcacy  in 
the  attempts  he  made  to  bring  her  back  to  life  formed  an 
amiable  contrast  to  his  usual  wildness,  and  occupied  him 
so  much,  that  he  remained  for  the  moment  ignorant  of 
the  disclosure  in  which  he  would  have  been  so  much  in- 
terested. As  for  Dr.  Rochecliffe,  he  came  forward,  wring- 
ing his  hands  in  all  the  demonstration  of  extreme  anx- 
38  193 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

iety,  and  with  the  usual  exclamations  attending  such  a 
state. 

'Peace,  Dr.  Rochecliffe!'  said  the  King,  with  such 
complete  self-possession  as  indeed  became  a  prince.  '  We 
are  in  the  hands,  I  am  satisfied,  of  a  man  of  honour. 
Master  Everard  must  be  pleased  in  finding  only  a  fugi- 
tive prince  in  the  person  in  whom  he  thought  he  had  dis- 
covered a  successful  rival.  He  cannot  but  be  aware  of 
the  feelings  which  prevented  me  from  taking  advantage 
of  the  cover  which  this  young  lady's  devoted  loyalty  af- 
forded me,  at  the  risk  of  her  own  happiness.  He  is  the 
party  who  is  to  profit  by  my  candour;  and  certainly  I 
have  a  right  to  expect  that  my  condition,  already  indif- 
ferent enough,  shall  not  be  rendered  worse  by  his  be- 
coming privy  to  it,  under  such  circumstances.  At  any 
rate,  the  avowal  is  made;  and  it  is  for  Colonel  Everard 
to  consider  how  he  is  to  conduct  himself.' 

'Oh,  your  Majesty!  —  my  Liege!  —  my  King!  —  my 
royal  Prince!'  exclaimed  Wildrake,  who,  at  length,  dis- 
covering what  was  passing,  had  crawled  on  his  knees, 
and  seizing  the  King's  hand,  was  kissing  it,  more  like  a 
child  mumbling  gingerbread,  or  like  a  lover  devouring 
the  yielded  hand  of  his  mistress,  than  in  the  manner  in 
which  such  salutations  pass  at  court.  '  If  my  dear  friend 
Mark  Everard  should  prove  a  dog  on  this  occasion,  rely 
on  me  I  will  cut  his  throat  on  the  spot,  were  I  to  do  the 
same  for  myself  the  moment  afterwards.' 

'Hush  —  hush,  my  good  friend  and  loyal  subject/ 
said  the  King,  'and  compose  yourself;  for  though  I  am 
obliged  to  put  on  the  prince  for  a  moment,  we  have  not 
privacy  or  safety  to  receive  our  subjects  in  King  Cam- 
byses's  vein.' 

194 


WOODSTOCK 

Everard,  who  had  stood  for  a  time  utterly  confounded, 
awoke  at  length  like  a  man  from  a  dream. 

'Sire,'  he  said,  bowing  low  and  with  profound  defer- 
ence, *  if  I  do  not  offer  you  the  homage  of  a  subject  with 
knee  and  sword,  it  is  because  God,  by  whom  kings  reign, 
has  denied  you  for  the  present  the  power  of  ascending 
your  throne  without  rekindling  civil  war.  For  your 
safety  being  endangered  by  me,  let  not  such  an  imag- 
ination for  an  instant  cross  your  mind.  Had  I  not  re- 
spected your  person,  were  I  not  bound  to  you  for  the 
candour  with  which  your  noble  avowal  has  prevented 
the  misery  of  my  future  life,  your  misfortunes  would 
have  rendered  your  person  as  sacred,  so  far  as  I  can  pro- 
tect it,  as  it  could  be  esteemed  by  the  most  devoted  Roy- 
alist in  the  kingdom.  If  your  plans  are  soundly  consid- 
ered and  securely  laid,  think  that  all  which  is  now  passed 
is  but  a  dream.  If  they  are  in  such  a  state  that  I  can  aid 
them,  saving  my  duty  to  the  Commonwealth,  which  will 
permit  me  to  be  privy  to  no  schemes  of  actual  violence, 
your  Majesty  may  command  my  services.' 

'  It  may  be  I  may  be  troublesome  to  you,  sir,'  said  the 
King,  'for  my  fortunes  are  not  such  as  to  permit  me  to 
reject  even  the  most  limited  offers  of  assistance;  but  if  I 
can,  I  will  dispense  with  applying  to  you:  I  would  not 
willingly  put  any  man's  compassion  at  war  with  his  sense 
of  duty  on  my  account.  Doctor,  I  think  there  will  be  no 
further  tilting  to-day,  either  with  sword  or  cane;  so  we 
may  as  well  return  to  the  lodge,  and  leave  these  (look- 
ing at  Alice  and  Everard),  who  may  have  more  to  say 
in  explanation.' 

*No  —  no!'  exclaimed  AHce,  who  was  now  perfectly 
come  to  herself,  and,  partly  by  her  own  observation  and 

I9S 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

partly  from  the  report  of  Dr.  Rochecliffe,  comprehended 
all  that  had  taken  place.  'My  cousin  Everard  and  I 
have  nothing  to  explain:  he  will  forgive  me  for  having 
riddled  with  him  when  I  dared  not  speak  plainly ;  and 
I  forgive  him  for  having  read  my  riddle  wrong.  But 
my  father  has  my  promise,  we  must  not  correspond  or 
converse  for  the  present;  I  return  instantly  to  the  lodge 
and  he  to  Woodstock,  unless  you,  sire,'  bowing  to  the 
King,  'command  his  duty  otherwise.  Instant  to  the 
town,  cousin  Markham;  and  if  danger  should  approach, 
give  us  warning.' 

Everard  would  have  delayed  her  departure,  would 
have  excused  himself  for  his  unjust  suspicion,  would 
have  said  a  thousand  things;  but  she  would  not  listen 
to  him,  saying,  for  all  other  answer,  'Farewell,  Mark- 
ham,  till  God  send  better  days!' 

'  She  is  an  angel  of  truth  and  beauty,'  said  Roger  Wild- 
rake;  'and  I,  like  a  blasphemous  heretic,  called  her  a 
Lindab rides!  But  has  your  Majesty  —  craving  your 
pardon  —  no  commands  for  poor  Hodge  Wildrake,  who 
will  blow  out  his  own  or  any  other  man's  brains  in 
England  to  do  your  Grace  a  pleasure? ' 

'  We  entreat  our  good  friend  Wildrake  to  do  nothing 
hastily,'  said  Charles,  smiling:  'such  brains  as  his  are 
rare,  and  should  not  be  rashly  dispersed,  as  the  like  may 
not  be  easily  collected.  We  recommend  him  to  be  silent 
and  prudent,  to  tilt  no  more  with  loyal  clergymen  of 
the  Church  of  England,  and  to  get  himself  a  new  jacket 
with  all  convenient  speed,  to  which  we  beg  to  contribute 
our  royal  aid.  When  fit  time  comes,  we  hope  to  find 
other  service  for  him.' 

^   As  he  spoke,  he  slid  ten  pieces  into  the  hand  of  poor 

196 


WOODSTOCK 

Wildrake,  who,  confounded  with  the  excess  of  his  loyal 
gratitude,  blubbered  like  a  child,  and  would  have  fol- 
lowed the  King,  had  not  Dr.  Rochechffe,  in  few  words, 
but  peremptory,  insisted  that  he  should  return  with  his 
patron,  promising  him  he  should  certainly  be  employed 
in  assisting  the  King's  escape,  could  an  opportunity  be 
found  of  using  his  services. 

*Be  so  generous,  reverend  sir,  and  you  bind  me  to  you 
for  ever,'  said  the  Cavalier;  'and  I  conjure  you  not  to 
keep  malice  against  me  on  account  of  the  foolery  you 
wot  of.' 

*I  have  no  occasion,  Captain  Wildrake,'  said  the  Doc- 
tor, 'for  I  think  I  had  the  best  of  it.' 

'Well,  then,  Doctor,  I  forgive  you  on  my  part;  and  I 
pray  you,  for  Christian  charity,  let  me  have  a  finger  in 
this  good  service;  for  as  I  live  in  hope  of  it,  rely  that  I 
shall  die  of  disappointment.' 

While  the  Doctor  and  soldier  thus  spoke  together, 
Charles  took  leave  of  Everard  (who  remained  uncov- 
ered while  he  spoke  to  him)  with  his  usual  grace.  *  I  need 
not  bid  you  no  longer  be  jealous  of  me,'  said  the  King; 
*  for  I  presume  you  will  scarce  think  of  a  match  betwixt 
Alice  and  me,  which  would  be  too  losing  a  one  on  her 
side.  For  other  thoughts,  the  wildest  libertine  could 
not  entertain  them  towards  so  high-minded  a  creature; 
and  believe  me,  that  my  sense  of  her  merit  did  not  need 
this  last  distinguished  proof  of  her  truth  and  loyalty.  I 
saw  enough  of  her  from  her  answers  to  some  idle  sallies  of 
gallantry,  to  know  with  what  a  lofty  character  she  is  en- 
dowed. Mr.  Everard,  her  happiness,  I  see,  depends  on 
you,  and  I  trust  you  will  be  the  careful  guardian  of  it.  If 
we  can  take  any  obstacle  out  of  the  way  of  your  joint 

197 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

happiness,  be  assured  we  will  use  our  influence.  Fare- 
well, sir;  if  we  cannot  be  better  friends,  do  not  at  least 
let  us  entertain  harder  or  worse  thoughts  of  each  other 
than  we  have  now.' 

There  was  something  in  the  manner  of  Charles  that 
was  extremely  affecting;  something,  too,  in  his  condition 
as  a  fugitive  in  the  kingdom  which  was  his  own  by  in- 
heritance, that  made  a  direct  appeal  to  Everard's  bosom, 
though  in  contradiction  to  the  dictates  of  that  policy 
which  he  judged  it  his  duty  to  pursue  in  the  distracted 
circumstances  of  the  country.  He  remained,  as  we  have 
said,  uncovered ;  and  in  his  manner  testified  the  highest 
expression  of  reverence,  up  to  the  point  when  such  might 
seem  a  symbol  of  allegiance.  He  bowed  so  low  as  almost 
to  approach  his  lips  to  the  hand  of  Charles,  but  he  did 
not  kiss  it.  'I  would  rescue  your  person,  sir,'  he  said, 
*  with  the  purchase  of  my  own  Hfe.  More  — '  He 
stopped  short,  and  the  King  took  up  his  sentence  where 
it  broke  off  —  'More  you  cannot  do,'  said  Charles,  *to 
maintain  an  honourable  consistency;  but  what  you  have 
said  is  enough.  You  cannot  render  homage  to  my  prof- 
fered hand  as  that  of  a  sovereign,  but  you  will  not  pre- 
vent my  taking  yours  as  a  friend,  if  you  allow  me  to  call 
myself  so  —  I  am  sure,  as  a  well-wisher  at  least.' 

The  generous  soul  of  Everard  was  touched.  He  took 
the  King's  hand  and  pressed  it  to  his  lips. 

*0h!'  he  said,  'were  better  times  to  come  — ' 

'Bind  yourself  to  nothing,  dear  Everard,'  said  the 
good-natured  prince,  partaking  his  emotion.  'We  rea- 
son ill  while  our  feelings  are  moved.  I  will  recruit  no 
man  to  his  loss,  nor  will  I  have  my  fallen  fortunes  in- 
volve those  of  others,  because  they  have  humanity  enough 

198 


WOODSTOCK 

to  pity  my  present  condition.  If  better  times  come,  why, 
we  will  meet  again,  and  I  hope  to  our  mutual  satisfac- 
tion. If  not,  as  your  future  father-in-law  would  say  (a 
benevolent  smile  came  over  his  face,  and  accorded  not 
unmeetly  with  his  glistening  eyes)  —  if  not,  this  parting 
was  well  made.' 

Everard  turned  away  with  a  deep  bow,  almost  chok- 
ing under  contending  feelings,  the  uppermost  of  which 
was  a  sense  of  the  generosity  with  which  Charles,  at  his 
own  imminent  risk,  had  cleared  away  the  darkness  that 
seemed  about  to  overwhelm  his  prospects  of  happiness 
for  Hfe,  mixed  with  a  deep  sense  of  the  perils  by  which 
he  was  environed.  He  returned  to  the  little  town,  fol- 
lowed by  his  attendant  Wildrake,  who  turned  back  so 
often,  with  weeping  eyes  and  hands  clasped  and  uplifted 
as  supplicating  Heaven,  that  Everard  was  obliged  to  re- 
mind hun  that  his  gestures  might  be  observed  by  some 
one,  and  occasion  suspicion. 

The  generous  conduct  of  the  King  during  the  closing 
part  of  this  remarkable  scene  had  not  escaped  Alice's 
notice;  and,  erasing  at  once  from  her  mind  all  resent- 
ment of  Charles's  former  conduct,  and  all  the  suspicions 
they  had  deservedly  excited,  awakened  in  her  bosom  a 
sense  of  the  natural  goodness  of  his  disposition,  which 
permitted  her  to  unite  regard  for  his  person  with  that 
reverence  for  his  high  office  in  which  she  had  been  edu- 
cated as  a  portion  of  her  creed.  She  felt  convinced,  and 
delighted  with  the  conviction,  that  his  virtues  were  his 
own,  his  Ubertinism  the  fault  of  education,  or  rather 
want  of  education,  and  the  corrupting  advice  of  syco- 
phants and  flatterers.  She  could  not  know,  or  perhaps 
did  not  in  that  moment  consider,  that,  in  a  soil  where  no 

199 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

care  is  taken  to  eradicate  tares,  they  will  outgrow  and 
smother  the  wholesome  seed,  even  if  the  last  is  more 
natural  to  the  soil.  For,  as  Dr.  Rochecliffe  informed  her 
afterwards  for  her  edification  —  promising,  as  was  his 
custom,  to  explain  the  precise  words  on  some  future  occa- 
sion, if  she  would  put  him  in  mind  —  Virtus  rectorem 
ducemque  desiderat;  vitia  sine  magistro  discuntur} 

There  was  no  room  for  such  reflections  at  present. 
Conscious  of  mutual  sincerity,  by  a  sort  of  intellectual 
communication,  through  which  individuals  are  led  to 
understand  each  other  better,  perhaps,  in  delicate  cir- 
cumstances than  by  words,  reserve  and  simulation  ap- 
peared to  be  now  banished  from  the  intercourse  between 
the  King  and  Alice.  With  manly  frankness,  and,  at  the 
same  time,  with  princely  condescension,  he  requested  her, 
exhausted  as  she  was,  to  accept  of  his  arm  on  the  way 
homeward,  instead  of  that  of  Dr.  Rochecliffe;  and  Alice 
accepted  of  his  support  with  modest  humility,  but  with- 
out a  shadow  of  mistrust  or  fear.  It  seemed  as  if  the  last 
half-hour  had  satisfied  them  perfectly  with  the  charac- 
ter of  each  other,  and  that  each  had  full  conviction  of 
the  purity  and  sincerity  of  the  other's  intentions. 

Dr.  Rochecliffe,  in  the  meantime,  had  fallen  some  four 
or  five  paces  behind ;  for,  less  light  and  active  than  Alice 
(who  had,  besides,  the  assistance  of  the  King's  support), 
he  was  unable,  without  effort  and  difficulty,  to  keep  up 
with  the  pace  of  Charles,  who  then  was,  as  we  have  else- 
where noticed,  one  of  the  best  walkers  in  England,  and 
was  sometimes  apt  to  forget  (as  great  men  will)  that 
others  were  inferior  to  him  in  activity. 

'Dear  Alice,'  said  the  King,  but  as  if  the  epithet  were 

^  See  Note  4. 
200 


WOODSTOCK 

entirely  fraternal,  'I  like  your  Everard  much.  I  would 
to  God  he  were  of  our  determination;  but  since  that  can- 
not be,  I  am  sure  he  will  prove  a  generous  enemy.' 

'May  it  please  you,  sire,'  said  Alice,  modestly,  but 
with  some  firmness,  'my  cousin  will  never  be  your 
Majesty's  personal  enemy;  and  he  is  one  of  the  few  on 
whose  slightest  word  you  may  rely  more  than  on  the 
oath  of  those  who  profess  more  strongly  and  formally. 
He  is  utterly  incapable  of  abusing  your  Majesty's  most 
generous  and  voluntary  confidence.' 

'On  my  honour,  I  believe  so,  Alice,'  repHed  the  King. 
*But,  odds-fish!  my  girl,  let  Majesty  sleep  for  the  pres- 
ent: it  concerns  my  safety,  as  I  told  your  brother  lately. 
Call  me  "sir,"  then,  which  belongs  alike  to  king,  peer, 
knight,  and  gentleman,  or  rather  let  me  be  wild  Louis 
Kerneguy  again.' 

Alice  looked  down  and  shook  her  head.  'That  cannot 
be,  please  your  Majesty.' 

'What!  Louis  was  a  saucy  companion  —  a  naughty, 
presuming  boy  —  and  you  cannot  abide  him?  Well, 
perhaps  you  are  right.  But  we  will  wait  for  Dr.  Roche- 
cliffe,'  he  said,  desirous,  with  good-natured  delicacy,  to 
make  Alice  aware  that  he  had  no  purpose  of  engaging 
her  in  any  discussion  which  could  recall  painful  ideas. 
They  paused  accordingly,  and  again  she  felt  relieved 
and  grateful. 

'I  cannot  persuade  our  fair  friend,  Mistress  Alice, 
Doctor,'  said  the  King, '  that  she  must,  in  prudence,  for- 
bear using  titles  of  respect  to  me  while  there  are  such 
very  slender  means  of  sustaining  them.' 

'It  is  a  reproach  to  earth  and  to  fortune,'  answered 
the  divine,  as  fast  as  his  recovered  breath  would  permit 

201 

SAHTA  imm  SiaiE  COLIESE  LI! 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

him, '  that  your  most  sacred  Majesty's  present  condition 
should  not  accord  with  the  rendering  of  those  honours 
which  are  your  own  by  birth,  and  which,  with  God's 
blessing  on  the  efforts  of  your  loyal  subjects,  I  hope  to 
see  rendered  to  you  as  your  hereditary  right  by  the  uni- 
versal voice  of  the  three  kingdoms.' 

'True,  Doctor,'  replied  the  King;  'but,  in  the  mean- 
while, can  you  expound  to  Mistress  Alice  Lee  two  lines 
of  Horace,  which  I  have  carried  in  my  thick  head  several 
years,  till  now  they  have  come  pat  to  my  purpose.  As 
my  canny  subjects  of  Scotland  say.  If  you  keep  a  thing 
seven  years,  you  are  sure  to  find  a  use  for  it  at  last. 
Telephus  —  ay,  so  it  begins  — 

Telephus  et  Peleus,  cum  pauper  et  exul  uterque, 
Projicit  ampullas  et  sesquipedalia  verba.' 

*I  will  explain  the  passage  to  Mistress  Alice,'  said  the 
Doctor,  'when  she  reminds  me  of  it;  or  rather,'  he  added, 
recollecting  that  his  ordinary  dilatory  answer  on  such 
occasions  ought  not  to  be  returned  when  the  order  for 
exposition  emanated  from  his  sovereign,  *I  will  repeat 
a  poor  couplet  from  my  own  translation  of  the  poem  — 

Heroes  and  kings,  in  exile  forced  to  roam, 

Leave  swelling  phrase  and  seven-leagued  words  at  home.' 

*A  most  admirable  version,  Doctor,'  said  Charles.  'I 
feel  all  its  force,  and  particularly  the  beautiful  rendering 
of  sesquipedalia  verba  into  seven-leagued  boots  —  words, 
I  mean:  it  reminds  me,  like  half  the  things  I  meet  with 
in  this  world,  of  the  "  Contes  de  Commere  I'Oye."  '^ 

Thus  conversing,  they  reached  the  lodge;  and  as  the 
King  went  to  his  chamber  to  prepare  for  the  breakfast 
summons,  now  impending,  the  idea  crossed  his  mind, 

^  Tales  oj  Mother  Goose. 
202 


WOODSTOCK 

*  Wilmot,  and  Villiers,  and  Killigrew  would  laugh  at  me, 
did  they  hear  of  a  campaign  in  which  neither  man  nor 
woman  had  been  conquered.  But,  odds-fish!  let  them 
laugh  as  they  will,  there  is  something  at  my  heart  which 
tells  me  that  for  once  in  my  Hfe  I  have  acted  well.' 

That  day  and  the  next  were  spent  in  tranquillity,  the 
King  waiting  impatiently  for  the  intelligence  which  was 
to  announce  to  him  that  a  vessel  was  prepared  some- 
where on  the  coast.  None  such  was  yet  in  readiness;  but 
he  learned  that  the  indefatigable  Albert  Lee  was,  at 
great  personal  risk,  traversing  the  sea-coast  from  town  to 
village,  and  endeavouring  to  find  means  of  embarkation 
among  the  friends  of  the  Royal  cause  and  the  corre- 
spondents of  Dr.  Rocheclifi^e. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 


Ruffian,  let  go  that  rude  uncivil  touch. 

Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona. 


It  is  time  we  should  give  some  account  of  the  other  ac- 
tors in  our  drama,  the  interest  due  to  the  principal  per- 
sonages having  for  some  time  engrossed  our  attention 
exclusively. 

We  are,  therefore,  to  inform  the  reader  that  the  lin- 
gering longings  of  the  Commissioners,  who  had  been 
driven  forth  of  their  proposed  paradise  of  Woodstock, 
not  by  a  cherub  indeed,  but,  as  they  thought,  by  spirits 
of  another  sort,  still  detained  them  in  the  vicinity. 
They  had,  indeed,  left  the  little  borough  under  pretence 
of  indifferent  accommodation.  The  more  palpable  rea- 
sons were,  that  they  entertained  some  resentment 
against  Everard,  as  the  means  of  their  disappointment, 
and  had  no  mind  to  reside  where  their  proceedings  could 
be  overlooked  by  him,  although  they  took  leave  in 
terms  of  the  utmost  respect.  They  went,  however,  no 
farther  than  Oxford,  and  remained  there,  as  ravens,  who 
are  accustomed  to  witness  the  chase,  sit  upon  a  tree  or 
crag,  at  a  Uttle  distance,  and  watch  the  disembowelling 
of  the  deer,  expecting  the  relics  which  fall  to  their  share. 
Meantime,  the  university  and  city,  but  especially  the 
former,  supplied  them  with  some  means  of  employing 
their  various  faculties  to  advantage,  until  the  expected 
moment  when,  as  they  hoped,  they  should  either  be 

204 


WOODSTOCK 

summoned  to  Windsor,  or  Woodstock  should  once  more 
be  abandoned  to  their  discretion. 

Bletson,  to  pass  the  time,  vexed  the  souls  of  such 
learned  and  pious  divines  and  scholars  as  he  could  in- 
trude his  hateful  presence  upon,  by  sophistry,  atheistical 
discourse,  and  challenges  to  them  to  impugn  the  most 
scandalous  theses.  Desborough,  one  of  the  most  brutally 
ignorant  men  of  the  period,  got  himself  nominated  the 
head  of  a  college,  and  lost  no  time  in  cutting  down  trees 
and  plundering  plate.  As  for  Harrison,  he  preached  in 
full  uniform  in  St.  Mary's  Church,  wearing  his  buflf-coat, 
boots,  and  spurs,  as  if  he  were  about  to  take  the  field 
for  the  fight  at  Armageddon.  And  it  was  hard  to  say 
whether  that  seat  of  learning,  reUgion,  and  loyalty,  as  it 
is  called  by  Clarendon,  was  more  vexed  by  the  rapine  of 
Desborough,  the  cold  scepticism  of  Bletson,  or  the  fran- 
tic enthusiasm  of  the  Fifth  Monarchy  champion. 

Ever  and  anon,  soldiers,  under  pretence  of  relieving 
guard,  or  otherwise,  went  and  came  betwixt  Woodstock 
and  Oxford,  and  maintained,  it  may  be  supposed,  a 
correspondence  with  Trusty  Tomkins,  who,  though  he 
chiefly  resided  in  the  town  of  Woodstock,  visited  the 
lodge  occasionally,  and  to  whom,  therefore,  they  doubt- 
less trusted  for  information  concerning  the  proceedings 
there. 

Indeed,  this  man  Tomkins  seemed  by  some  secret 
means  to  have  gained  the  confidence  in  part,  if  not  in 
whole,  of  almost  every  one  connected  with  these  in- 
trigues. All  closeted  him,  all  conversed  with  him  in 
private;  those  who  had  the  means  propitiated  him  with 
gifts,  those  who  had  not  were  Uberal  of  promises.  When 
he  chanced  to  appear  at  Woodstock,  which  always 

205 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

seemed  as  it  were  by  accident,  if  he  passed  through  the 
hall,  the  knight  was  sure  to  ask  him  to  take  the  foils,  and 
was  equally  certain  to  be,  after  less  or  more  resistance, 
victorious  in  the  encounter;  so,  in  consideration  of  so 
many  triumphs,  the  good  Sir  Henry  almost  forgave  him 
the  sins  of  rebellion  and  Puritanism.  Then,  if  his  slow 
and  formal  step  was  heard  in  the  passages  approaching 
the  gallery,  Dr.  Rochecliffe,  though  he  never  introduced 
him  to  his  peculiar  boudoir,  was  sure  to  meet  Mas- 
ter Tomkins  in  some  neutral  apartment,  and  to  engage 
him  in  long  conversations,  which  apparently  had  great 
interest  for  both. 

Neither  was  the  Independent's  reception  below-stairs 
less  gracious  than  above.  Joceline  failed  not  to  welcome 
him  with  the  most  cordial  frankness;  the  pasty  and  the 
flagon  were  put  in  immediate  requisition,  and  good  cheer 
was  the  general  word.  The  means  for  this,  it  may  be 
observed,  had  grown  more  plenty  at  Woodstock  since 
the  arrival  of  Dr.  Rochecliffe,  who,  in  quality  of  agent 
for  several  Royalists,  had  various  sums  of  money  at  his 
disposal.  By  these  funds  it  is  likely  that  Trusty  Tom- 
kins  also  derived  his  own  full  advantage. 

In  his  occasional  indulgence  in  what  he  called  a  fleshly 
frailty  (and  for  which  he  said  he  had  a  privilege),  which 
was  in  truth  an  attachment  to  strong  liquors,  and  that 
in  no  moderate  degree,  his  language,  at  other  times 
remarkably  decorous  and  reserved,  became  wild  and 
animated.  He  sometimes  talked  with  all  the  unction  of 
an  old  debauchee  of  former  exploits,  such  as  deer- 
stealing,  orchard-robbing,  drunken  gambols,  and  des- 
perate affrays  in  which  he  had  been  engaged  in  the 
earUer  part  of  his  hfe,  sung  bacchanalian  and  amorous 

206 


WOODSTOCK 

ditties,  dwelt  sometimes  upon  adventures  which  drove 
Phoebe  Mayflower  from  the  company,  and  penetrated 
even  the  deaf  ears  of  Dame  Jellicot,  so  as  to  make  the 
buttery  in  which  he  held  his  carousals  no  proper  place 
for  the  poor  old  woman. 

In  the  middle  of  these  wild  rants,  Tomkins  twice  or 
thrice  suddenly  ran  into  rehgious  topics,  and  spoke 
mysteriously,  but  with  great  animation  and  a  rich  elo- 
quence, on  the  happy  and  preeminent  saints,  who  were 
saints,  as  he  termed  them,  indeed  —  men  who  had 
stormed  the  inner  treasure-house  of  Heaven,  and  pos- 
sessed themselves  of  its  choicest  jewels.  All  other  sects 
he  treated  with  the  utmost  contempt,  as  merely  quarrel- 
ling, as  he  expressed  it,  like  hogs  over  a  trough,  about 
husks  and  acorns;  under  which  derogatory  terms  he 
included  alike  the  usual  rites  and  ceremonies  of  public 
devotion,  the  ordinances  of  the  established  churches  of 
Christianity,  and  the  observances,  nay,  the  forbear- 
ances, enjoined  by  every  class  of  Christians.  Scarcely 
hearing,  and  not  at  all  understanding,  him,  Joceline, 
who  seemed  his  most  frequent  confidant  on  such  occa- 
sions, generally  led  him  back  into  some  strain  of  rude 
mirth,  or  old  recollection  of  follies  before  the  Civil  Wars, 
without  caring  about  or  endeavouring  to  analyse  the 
opinion  of  this  saint  of  an  evil  fashion,  but  fully  sensible 
of  the  protection  which  his  presence  afforded  at  Wood- 
stock, and  confident  in  the  honest  meaning  of  so  free- 
spoken  a  fellow,  to  whom  ale  and  brandy,  when  better 
liquor  was  not  to  be  come  by,  seemed  to  be  principal 
objects  of  life,  and  who  drank  a  health  to  the  King,  or  any 
one  else,  whenever  required,  provided  the  cup  in  which 
he  was  to  perform  the  libation  were  but  a  brimmer. 

207 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

These  peculiar  doctrines,  which  were  entertained  by  a 
sect  sometimes  termed  the  Family  of  Love,  but  more 
commonly  Ranters,^  had  made  some  progress  in  times 
when  such  variety  of  religious  opinions  were  prevalent, 
that  men  pushed  the  jarring  heresies  to  the  verge  of 
absolute  and  most  impious  insanity.  Secrecy  had  been 
enjoined  on  these  frantic  behevers  in  a  most  blasphem- 
ous doctrine,  by  the  fear  of  consequences,  should  they 
come  to  be  generally  announced ;  and  it  was  the  care  of 
Mr.  Tomkins  to  conceal  the  spiritual  freedom  which  he 
pretended  to  have  acquired  from  all  whose  resentment 
would  have  been  stirred  by  his  public  avowal  of  it.  This 
was  not  difficult;  for  their  profession  of  faith  permitted, 
nay,  required,  their  occasional  conformity  with  the 
sectaries  or  professors  of  any  creed  which  chanced  to  be 
uppermost. 

Tomkins  had  accordingly  the  art  to  pass  himself  on 
Dr.  Rochecliffe  as  still  a  zealous  member  of  the  Church 
of  England,  though  serving  under  the  enemy's  colours, 
as  a  spy  in  their  camp ;  and  as  he  had  on  several  times 
given  him  true  and  valuable  intelligence,  this  active 
intriguer  was  the  more  easily  induced  to  believe  his 
professions. 

Nevertheless,  lest  this  person's  occasional  presence  at 
the  lodge,  which  there  were  perhaps  no  means  to  prevent 
without  exciting  suspicion,  should  infer  danger  to  the 
King's  person,  Rochecliffe,  whatever  confidence  he 
otherwise  reposed  in  him,  recommended  that,  if  possible, 
the  King  should  keep  always  out  of  his  sight,  and  when 
accidentally  discovered,  that  he  should  only  appear  in 
the  character  of  Louis  Kemeguy.  Joseph  Tomkins,  he 

*  See  Note  5. 
208 


WOODSTOCK 

said,  was,  he  really  believed,  Honest  Joe;  but  honesty 
was  a  horse  which  might  be  overburdened,  and  there  was 
no  use  in  leading  our  neighbour  into  temptation. 

It  seemed  as  if  Tomkins  himself  had  acquiesced  in 
this  limitation  of  confidence  exercised  towards  him,  or 
that  he  wished  to  seem  blinder  than  he  really  was  to  the 
presence  of  this  stranger  in  the  family.  It  occurred  to 
Joceline,  who  was  a  very  shrewd  fellow,  that  once  or 
twice,  when  by  inevitable  accident  Tomkins  had  met 
Kemeguy,  he  seemed  less  interested  in  the  circumstance 
than  he  would  have  expected  from  the  man's  disposition, 
which  was  naturally  prying  and  inquisitive.  '  He  asked 
no  questions  about  the  young  stranger,'  said  Joceline. 
'God  avert  that  he  knows  or  suspects  too  much!'  But 
his  suspicions  were  removed  when,  in  the  course  of  their 
subsequent  conversation,  Joseph  Tomkins  mentioned 
the  King's  escape  from  Bristol  as  a  thing  positively  cer- 
tain, and  named  both  the  vessel  in  which  he  said  he  had 
gone  off  and  the  master  who  commanded  her,  seeming 
so  convinced  of  the  truth  of  the  report,  that  Joceline 
judged  it  impossible  he  could  have  the  slightest  sus- 
picion of  the  reality. 

Yet,  notwithstanding  this  persuasion,  and  the  com- 
radeship which  had  been  established  between  them,  the 
faithful  underkeeper  resolved  to  maintain  a  strict  watch 
over  his  gossip  Tomkins,  and  be  in  readiness  to  give  the 
alarm  should  occasion  arise.  True,  he  thought,  he  had 
reason  to  believe  that  his  said  friend,  notwithstanding 
his  drunken  and  enthusiastic  rants,  was  as  trustworthy 
as  he  was  esteemed  by  Dr.  Rochecliffe;  yet  still  he  was 
an  adventurer,  the  outside  and  lining  of  whose  cloak 
were  of  different  colours,  and  a  high  reward,  and  pardon 
38  209 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

for  past  acts  of  malignancy,  might  tempt  him  once 
more  to  turn  his  tippet.  For  these  reasons  Joceline  kept 
a  strict,  though  unostentatious,  watch  over  Trusty 
Tomkins. 

We  have  said  that  the  discreet  seneschal  was  univers- 
ally well  received  at  Woodstock,  whether  in  the  borough 
or  at  the  lodge,  and  that  even  JoceHne  Joliffe  was  anx- 
ious to  conceal  any  suspicions  which  he  could  not  alto- 
gether repress  under  a  great  show  of  cordial  hospitality. 
There  were,  however,  two  individuals  who,  for  very 
different  reasons,  nourished  personal  dislike  against  the 
individual  so  generally  acceptable. 

One  was  Nehemiah  Holdenough,  who  remembered 
with  great  bitterness  of  spirit  the  Independent's  violent 
intrusion  into  his  pulpit,  and  who  ever  spoke  of  him  in 
private  as  a  lying  missionary,  into  whom  Satan  had  put 
a  spirit  of  delusion;  and  preached,  besides,  a  solemn  ser- 
mon on  the  subject  of  the  false  prophet,  out  of  whose 
mouth  came  frogs.  The  discourse  was  highly  prized  by 
the  Mayor  and  most  of  the  better  class,  who  conceived 
that  their  minister  had  struck  a  heavy  blow  at  the  very 
root  of  Independency.  On  the  other  hand,  those  of  the 
private  spirit  contended,  that  Joseph  Tomkins  had  made 
a  successful  and  triumphant  rally,  in  an  exhortation  on 
the  evening  of  the  same  day,  in  which  he  proved,  to  the 
conviction  of  many  handicraftsmen,  that  the  passage  in 
Jeremiah,  'The  prophets  prophesy  falsely,  and  the 
priests  bear  rule  by  their  means,'  was  directly  applicable 
to  the  Presbyterian  system  of  church  government.  The 
clergyman  despatched  an  accoimt  of  his  adversary's 
conduct  to  the  Reverend  Master  Edwards,  to  be  inserted 
in  the  next  edition  of '  Gangraena,'  as  a  pestilent  heretic; 

2IO 


WOODSTOCK 

and  Tomkins  recommended  the  parson  to  his  master, 
Desborough,  as  a  good  subject  on  whom  to  impose  a 
round  fine,  for  vexing  the  private  spirit;  assuring  him,  at 
the  same  time,  that,  though  the  minister  might  seem 
poor,  yet,  if  a  few  troopers  were  quartered  on  him  till 
the  fine  was  paid,  every  rich  shopkeeper's  wife  in  the 
borough  would  rob  the  till,  rather  than  go  without  the 
mammon  of  unrighteousness  with  which  to  redeem  their 
priest  from  sufferance,  holding,  according  to  his  expres- 
sion, with  Laban,  'You  have  taken  from  me  my  gods, 
and  what  have  I  more?'  There  was,  of  course,  little 
cordiality  between  the  polemical  disputants,  when  reli- 
gious debate  took  so  worldly  a  turn. 

But  Joe  Tomkins  was  much  more  concerned  at  the 
evil  opinion  which  seemed  to  be  entertained  against  him 
by  one  whose  good  graces  he  was  greatly  more  desirous 
to  obtain  than  those  of  Nehemiah  Holdenough.  This 
was  no  other  than  pretty  Mistress  Phoebe  Mayflower, 
for  whose  conversion  he  had  felt  a  strong  vocation  ever 
since  his  lecture  upon  Shakespeare  on  their  first  meeting 
at  the  lodge.  He  seemed  desirous,  however,  to  carry  on 
this  more  serious  work  in  private,  and  especially  to  con- 
ceal his  labours  from  his  friend  Joceline  Joliffe,  lest,  per- 
chance, he  had  been  addicted  to  jealousy.  But  it  was  in 
vain  that  he  plied  the  faithful  damsel,  sometimes  with 
verses  from  the  Canticles,  sometimes  with  quotations 
from  Green's  'Arcadia,'  or  pithy  passages  from  'Venus 
and  Adonis,'  and  doctrines  of  a  nature  yet  more  abstruse, 
from  the  popular  work  entitled  'Aristotle's  Masterpiece.* 
Unto  no  wooing  of  his,  sacred  or  profane,  metaphysical 
or  physical,  would  Phoebe  Mayflower  seriously  incline. 

The  maiden  loved  Joceline  Joliffe,  on  the  one  hand; 

211 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

and,  on  the  other,  if  she  disliked  Joseph  Tomkins  when 
she  first  saw  him,  as  a  rebellious  Puritan,  she  had  not 
been  at  all  reconciled  by  finding  reason  to  regard  him  as 
a  hypocritical  libertine.  She  hated  him  in  both  capaci- 
ties, never  endured  his  conversation  when  she  could 
escape  from  it,  and  when  obUged  to  remain,  listened  to 
him  only  because  she  knew  he  had  been  so  deeply 
trusted,  that  to  offend  him  might  endanger  the  security 
of  the  family  in  the  service  of  which  she  had  been  born 
and  bred  up,  and  to  whose  interest  she  was  devoted. 
For  reasons  somewhat  similar,  she  did  not  suffer  her 
dislike  of  the  steward  to  become  manifest  before  Joceline 
JoHffe,  whose  spirit,  as  a  forester  and  a  soldier,  might 
have  been  likely  to  bring  matters  to  an  arbitrement,  in 
which  the  couteau  de  chasse  and  quarter-staff  of  her 
favourite  would  have  been  too  unequally  matched  with 
the  long  rapier  and  pistols  which  his  dangerous  rival  al- 
ways carried  about  his  person.  But  it  is  difficult  to  blind 
jealousy  when  there  is  any  cause  of  doubt;  and  perhaps 
the  sharp  watch  maintained  by  Joceline  on  his  comrade 
was  prompted  not  only  by  his  zeal  for  the  King's  safety, 
but  by  some  vague  suspicion  that  Tomkins  was  not  ill- 
disposed  to  poach  upon  his  own  fair  manor. 

Phoebe,  in  the  meanwhile,  like  a  prudent  girl,  shel- 
tered herself  as  much  as  possible  by  the  presence  of 
Goody  Jellicot.  Then,  indeed,  it  is  true,  the  Independ- 
ent, or  whatever  he  was,  used  to  follow  her  with  his 
addresses  to  very  little  purpose;  for  Phoebe  seemed  as 
deaf,  through  wilfulness,  as  the  old  matron  by  natural 
infirmity.  This  indifference  highly  incensed  her  new 
lover,  and  induced  him  anxiously  to  watch  for  a  time  and 
place  in  which  he  might  plead  his  suit  with  an  energy 

212 


WOODSTOCK 

that  should  command  attention.  Fortune,  that  mali- 
cious goddess,  who  so  often  ruins  us  by  granting  the 
very  object  of  our  vows,  did  at  length  procure  him  such 
an  opportunity  as  he  had  long  coveted. 

It  was  about  sunset,  or  shortly  after,  when  Phoebe, 
upon  whose  activity  much  of  the  domestic  arrangements 
depended,  went  as  far  as  Fair  Rosamond's  spring  to 
obtain  water  for  the  evening  meal,  or  rather  to  gratify 
the  prejudice  of  the  old  knight,  who  believed  that  cele- 
brated fountain  afforded  the  choicest  supplies  of  the 
necessary  element.  Such  was  the  respect  in  which  he  was 
held  by  his  whole  family,  that  to  neglect  any  of  his 
wishes  that  could  be  gratified,  though  with  inconven- 
ience to  themselves,  would,  in  their  estimation,  have 
been  almost  equal  to  a  breach  of  religious  duty. 

To  fill  the  pitcher  had,  we  know,  been  of  late  a  trouble- 
some task;  but  Joceline's  ingenuity  had  so  far  rendered 
it  easy,  by  repairing  rudely  a  part  of  the  ruined  front  of 
the  ancient  fountain,  that  the  water  was  collected,  and, 
trickling  along  a  wooden  spout,  dropped  from  a  height  of 
about  two  feet.  A  damsel  was  thereby  enabled  to  place 
her  pitcher  under  the  slowly  dropping  supply,  and, 
without  toil  to  herself,  might  wait  till  her  vessel  was 
filled. 

Phcebe  Mayflower,  on  the  evening  we  allude  to,  saw, 
for  the  first  time,  this  Httle  improvement;  and,  justly 
considering  it  as  a  piece  of  gallantry  of  her  silvan  ad- 
mirer, designed  to  save  her  the  trouble  of  performing  her 
task  in  a  more  inconvenient  manner,  she  gratefully  em- 
ployed the  minutes  of  ease  which  the  contrivance  pro- 
cured her,  in  reflecting  on  the  good-nature  and  ingenuity 
of  the  obliging  engineer,  and  perhaps  in  thinking  he 

213 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

might  have  done  as  wisely  to  have  waited  till  she  came 
to  the  fountain,  that  he  might  have  secured  personal 
thanks  for  the  trouble  he  had  taken.  But  then  she  knew 
he  was  detained  in  the  buttery  with  that  odious  Tom- 
kins,  and  rather  than  have  seen  the  Independent  along 
with  him,  she  would  have  renounced  the  thought  of 
meeting  Joceline. 

As  she  was  thus  reflecting,  Fortune  was  malicious 
enough  to  send  Tomkins  to  the  fountain,  and  without 
Joceline.  When  she  saw  his  figure  darken  the  path  up 
which  he  came,  an  anxious  reflection  came  over  the  poor 
maiden's  breast,  that  she  was  alone,  and  within  the 
verge  of  the  forest,  where  in  general  persons  were  pro- 
hibited to  come  during  the  twihght,  for  disturbing  the 
deer  settling  to  their  repose.  She  encouraged  herself, 
however,  and  resolved  to  show  no  sense  of  fear,  although, 
as  the  steward  approached,  there  was  something  in  the 
man's  look  and  eye  no  way  calculated  to  allay  her  appre- 
hensions. 

'The  blessings  of  the  evening  upon  you,  my  pretty 
maiden,'  he  said.  *I  meet  you  even  as  the  chief  servant 
of  Abraham,  who  was  a  steward  like  myself,  met  Re- 
becca, the  daughter  of  Bethuel,  the  son  of  Milcah,  at  the 
well  of  the  city  of  Nahor,  in  Mesopotamia.  Shall  I  not, 
therefore,  say  to  you,  "  Set  down  thy  pitcher  that  I  may 
drink"?' 

'The  pitcher  is  at  your  service.  Master  Tomkins,'  she 
replied,  'and  you  may  drink  as  much  as  you  will;  but 
you  have,  I  warrant,  drank  better  Hquor,  and  that  not 
long  since.' 

It  was,  indeed,  obvious  that  the  steward  had  arisen 
from  a  revel,  for  his  features  were  somewhat  flushed, 

214 


WOODSTOCK 

though  he  had  stopped  far  short  of  intoxication.  But 
Phoebe's  alarm  at  his  first  appearance  was  rather  in- 
creased when  she  observed  how  he  had  been  lately- 
employed. 

*I  do  but  use  my  privilege,  my  pretty  Rebecca:  the 
earth  is  given  to  the  saints,  and  the  fulness  thereof. 
They  shall  occupy  and  enjoy  it,  both  the  riches  of  the 
mine  and  the  treasures  of  the  vine;  and  they  shall  re- 
joice, and  their  hearts  be  merry  within  them.  Thou  hast 
yet  to  learn  the  privileges  of  the  saints,  my  Rebecca.' 

*My  name  is  Phoebe,'  said  the  maiden,  in  order  to 
sober  the  enthusiastic  rapture  which  he  either  felt  or 
affected. 

'Phoebe  after  the  flesh,'  he  said,  'but  Rebecca  being 
spiritualised;  for  art  thou  not  a  wandering  and  stray 
sheep,  and  am  I  not  sent  to  fetch  thee  within  the  fold? 
Wherefore  else  was  it  said,  "Thou  shalt  find  her  seated 
by  the  well,  in  the  wood  which  is  called  after  the  ancient 
harlot,  Rosamond"?' 

'You  have  found  me  sitting  here  sure  enough,'  said 
Phoebe ; '  but  if  you  wish  to  keep  me  company,  you  must 
walk  to  the  lodge  with  me;  and  you  shall  carry  my 
pitcher  for  me,  if  you  will  be  so  kind.  I  will  hear  all 
the  good  things  you  have  to  say  to  me  as  we  go  along. 
But  Sir  Henry  calls  for  his  glass  of  water  regularly  be- 
fore prayers.' 

'What!'  exclaimed  Tomkins,  'hath  the  old  man  of 
bloody  hand  and  perverse  heart  sent  thee  hither  to  do 
the  work  of  a  bondswoman?  Verily  thou  shalt  return 
enfranchised;  and  for  the  water  thou  hast  drawn  for 
him,  it  shall  be  poured  forth,  even  as  David  caused  to  be 
poured  forth  the  water  of  the  well  of  Bethelehem.' 

215 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

So  saying,  he  emptied  the  water-pitcher,  in  spite  of 
Phoebe's  exclamations  and  entreaties.  He  then  replaced 
the  vessel  beneath  the  little  conduit,  and  continued  — 
*Know  that  this  shall  be  a  token  to  thee.  The  fiUing  of 
that  pitcher  shall  be  like  the  running  of  a  sand-glass;  and 
if,  within  the  time  which  shall  pass  ere  it  rises  to  the 
brim,  thou  shalt  listen  to  the  words  which  I  shall  say  to 
thee,  then  it  shall  be  well  with  thee,  and  thy  place  shall 
be  high  among  those  who,  forsaking  the  instruction 
which  is  as  milk  for  babes  and  sucklings,  eat  the  strong 
food  which  nourishes  manhood.  But  if  the  pitcher  shall 
overbrim  with  water  ere  thy  ear  shall  hear  and  under- 
stand, thou  shalt  then  be  given  as  a  prey,  and  as  a  bonds- 
maiden,  unto  those  who  shall  possess  the  fat  and  the  fair 
of  the  earth.' 

'You  frighten  me.  Master  Tomkins,'  said  Phoebe, 
'though  I  am  sure  you  do  not  mean  to  do  so.  I  wonder 
how  you  dare  speak  words  so  Uke  the  good  words  in  the 
Bible,  when  you  know  how  you  laughed  at  your  own 
master,  and  all  the  rest  of  them,  when  you  helped  to  play 
the  hobgoblins  at  the  lodge.' 

'Think'st  thou  then,  thou  simple  fool,  that,  in  put- 
ting that  deceit  upon  Harrison  and  the  rest,  I  exceeded 
my  privileges  ?  Nay,  verily.  Listen  to  me,  foolish  girl. 
When  in  former  days  I  lived  the  most  wild,  malignant 
rakehell  in  Oxfordshire,  frequenting  wakes  and  fairs, 
dancing  around  Maypoles,  and  showing  my  lustihood  at 
football  and  cudgel-playing  —  yea,  when  I  was  called, 
in  the  language  of  the  uncircumcised,  Philip  Hazeldine, 
and  was  one  of  the  singers  in  the  choir,  and  one  of  the 
ringers  in  the  steeple,  and  served  the  priest  yonder,  by 
name  Rochecliflfe  —  I  was  not  further  from  the  straight 

216 


WOODSTOCK 

road  than  when,  after  long  reading,  I  at  length  found 
one  blind  guide  after  another  all  burners  of  bricks  in 
Egypt.  I  left  them  one  by  one,  the  poor  tool  Harrison 
being  the  last;  and  by  my  own  unassisted  strength  I 
have  struggled  forward  to  the  broad  and  blessed  light, 
whereof  thou  too,  Phoebe,  shalt  be  partaker.' 

*I  thank  you.  Master  Tomkins,'  said  Phoebe,  suppress- 
ing some  fear  under  an  appearance  of  indifiference;  'but 
I  shall  have  light  enough  to  carry  home  my  pitcher, 
would  you  but  let  me  take  it,  and  that  is  all  the  want  of 
light  I  shall  have  this  evening.' 

So  saying,  she  stooped  to  take  the  pitcher  from  the 
fountain;  but  he  snatched  hold  of  her  by  the  arm,  and 
prevented  her  from  accomplishing  her  purpose.  Phoebe, 
however,  was  the  daughter  of  a  bold  forester,  prompt  at 
thoughts  of  self-defence;  and  though  she  missed  getting 
hold  of  the  pitcher,  she  caught  up  instead  a  large  pebble, 
which  she  kept  concealed  in  her  right  hand. 

'Stand  up,  foolish  maiden,  and  listen,'  said  the  Inde- 
pendent, sternly;  'and  know,  in  one  word,  that  sin,  for 
which  the  spirit  of  man  is  punished  with  the  vengeance 
of  Heaven,  heth  not  in  the  corporal  act,  but  in  the 
thought  of  the  sinner.  Believe,  lovely  Phoebe,  that  to  the 
pure  all  acts  are  pure,  and  that  sin  is  in  our  thought,  not 
in  our  actions,  even  as  the  radiance  of  the  day  is  dark  to 
a  blind  man,  but  seen  and  enjoyed  by  him  whose  eyes 
receive  it.  To  him  who  is  but  a  novice  in  the  things  of 
the  spirit,  much  is  enjoined,  much  is  prohibited,  and  he 
is  fed  with  milk  fit  for  babes;  for  him  are  ordinances, 
prohibitions,  and  commands.  But  the  saint  is  above 
these  ordinances  and  restraints.  To  him,  as  to  the 
chosen  child  of  the  house,  is  given  the  pass-key  to  open 

217 


'  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

all  locks  which  withhold  him  from  the  enjoyment  of 
his  heart's  desire.  Into  such  pleasant  paths  will  I  guide 
thee,  lovely  Phoebe,  as  shall  unite  in  joy,  in  innocent 
freedom,  pleasures  which,  to  the  unprivileged,  are  sin- 
ful and  prohibited.' 

'I  really  wish,  Master  Tomkins,  you  would  let  me  go 
home,'  said  Phoebe,  not  comprehending  the  nature  of  his 
doctrine,  but  disliking  at  once  his  words  and  his  manner. 
He  went  on,  however,  with  the  accursed  and  blasphem- 
ous doctrines  which,  in  common  with  others  of  the 
pretended  saints,  he  had  adopted,  after  having  long 
shifted  from  one  sect  to  another,  until  he  settled  in  the 
vile  belief  that  sin,  being  of  a  character  exclusively  spir- 
itual, only  existed  in  the  thoughts,  and  that  the  worst 
actions  were  permitted  to  those  who  had  attained  to  the 
pitch  of  believing  themselves  above  ordinance.  'Thus, 
my  Phoebe,'  he  continued,  endeavouring  to  draw  her  to- 
wards him, '  I  can  offer  thee  more  than  ever  was  held  out 
to  woman  since  Adam  first  took  his  bride  by  the  hand. 
It  shall  be  for  others  to  stand  dry-lipped,  doing  penance, 
like  Papists,  by  abstinence,  when  the  vessel  of  pleasure 
pours  forth  its  delights.  Dost  thou  love  money?  I  have 
it,  and  can  procure  more  —  am  at  hberty  to  procure  it 
on  every  hand  and  by  every  means:  the  earth  is  mine 
and  its  fulness.  Do  you  desire  power?  Which  of  these 
poor  cheated  commissioner  fellows'  estates  dost  thou 
covet,  I  will  work  it  out  for  thee;  for  I  deal  with  a  might- 
ier spirit  than  any  of  them.  And  it  is  not  without  war- 
rant that  I  have  aided  the  Malignant  Rochecliffe  and 
the  clown  Joliffe  to  frighten  and  baffle  them  in  the  guise 
they  did.  Ask  what  thou  wilt,  Phoebe,  I  can  give,  or  I 
can  procure  it  for  thee.  Then  enter  with  me  into  a  Ufe 

218 


WOODSTOCK 

of  delight  in  this  world,  which  shall  prove  but  an  anti- 
cipation of  the  joys  of  Paradise  hereafter!' 

Again  the  fanatical  voluptuary  endeavoured  to  pull 
the  poor  girl  towards  him,  while  she,  alarmed,  but  not 
scared  out  of  her  presence  of  mind,  endeavoured,  by  fair 
entreaty,  to  prevail  on  him  to  release  her.  But  his  fea- 
tures, in  themselves  not  marked,  had  acquired  a  fright- 
ful expression,  and  he  exclaimed,  'No,  Phoebe,  do  not 
think  to  escape:  thou  art  given  to  me  as  a  captive;  thou 
hast  neglected  the  hour  of  grace,  and  it  has  glided  past. 
See,  the  water  trickles  over  thy  pitcher,  which  was  to  be 
a  sign  between  us.  Therefore  I  will  urge  thee  no  more 
with  words,  of  which  thou  art  not  worthy,  but  treat  thee 
as  a  recusant  of  offered  grace.' 

'Master  Tomkins,'  said  Phoebe,  in  an  imploring  tone, 
'consider,  for  God's  sake,  I  am  a  fatherless  child;  do  me 
no  injury,  it  would  be  a  shame  to  your  strength  and  your 
manhood.  I  cannot  understand  your  fine  words  —  I 
will  think  on  them  till  to-morrow.'  Then,  in  rising  re- 
sentment, she  added  more  vehemently,  'I  will  not  be 
used  rudely;  stand  off,  or  I  will  do  you  a  mischief.'  But, 
as  he  pressed  upon  her  with  a  violence  of  which  the  object 
could  not  be  mistaken,  and  endeavoured  to  secure  her 
right  hand,  she  exclaimed,  'Take  it,  then,  with  a  wanion 
to  you ! '  and  struck  him  an  almost  stunning  blow  on  the 
face  with  the  pebble  which  she  held  ready  for  such  an 
extremity. 

The  fanatic  let  her  go,  and  staggered  backward,  half 
stupefied ;  while  Phoebe  instantly  betook  herself  to  flight, 
screaming  for  help  as  she  ran,  but  still  grasping  the  vic- 
torious pebble.  Irritated  to  frenzy  by  the  severe  blow 
which  he  had  received,  Tomkins  pursued,  with  every 

219 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

black  passion  in  his  soul  and  in  his  face,  mingled  with 
fear  lest  his  villainy  should  be  discovered.  He  called  on 
Phoebe  loudly  to  stop,  and  had  the  brutality  to  menace 
her  with  one  of  his  pistols  if  she  continued  to  fly.  Yet 
she  slackened  not  her  pace  for  his  threats,  and  he  must 
either  have  executed  them,  or  seen  her  escape  to  carry 
the  tale  to  the  lodge,  had  she  not  unhappily  stumbled 
over  the  projecting  root  of  a  fir-tree. 

But,  as  he  rushed  upon  his  prey,  rescue  interposed  in 
the  person  of  Joceline  Joliffe,  with  his  quarter-staff  on 
his  shoulder.  *How  now!  what  means  this?'  he  said, 
stepping  between  Phoebe  and  her  pursuer.  Tomkins,  al- 
ready roused  to  fury,  made  no  other  answer  than  by  dis- 
charging at  Joceline  the  pistol  which  he  held  in  his  hand. 
The  ball  grazed  the  under-keeper's  face,  who,  in  re- 
quital of  the  assault,  and  saying,  'Aha!  let  ash  answer 
iron,'  applied  his  quarter-staff  with  so  much  force  to  the 
Independent's  head,  that,  lighting  on  the  left  temple, 
the  blow  proved  almost  instantly  mortal. 

A  few  convulsive  struggles  were  accompanied  with 
these  broken  words,  'Joceline  —  I  am  gone  —  but  I 
forgive  thee.  Dr.  RochecHffe  —  I  wish  I  had  minded 
more —  Oh!  the  clergyman  —  the  funeral- service  — ' 
As  he  uttered  these  words,  indicative,  it  may  be,  of  his 
return  to  a  creed  which  perhaps  he  had  never  abjured  so 
thoroughly  as  he  had  persuaded  himself,  his  voice  was 
lost  in  a  groan,  which,  rattling  in  the  throat,  seemed  un- 
able to  find  its  way  to  the  air.  These  were  the  last  symp- 
toms of  hfe:  the  clenched  hands  presently  relaxed,  the 
closed  eyes  opened  and  stared  on  the  heavens  a  lifeless 
jelly,  the  limbs  extended  themselves  and  stiffened.  The 
body,  which  was  lately  animated  with  life,  was  now  a 

220 


WOODSTOCK 

lump  of  senseless  clay;  the  soul,  dismissed  from  its 
earthly  tenement  in  a  moment  so  imhallowed,  was  gone 
before  the  judgment-seat. 

'Oh,  what  have  you  done  —  what  have  you  done, 
Joceline?'  exclaimed  Phoebe;  'you  have  killed  the  man! ' 

'Better  than  he  should  have  killed  me/  answered  Joce- 
line; 'for  he  was  none  of  the  blinkers  that  miss  their  mark 
twice  running.  And  yet  I  am  sorry  for  him.  IMany  a 
merry  bout  have  we  had  together  when  he  was  wild 
Philip  Hazeldine,  and  then  he  was  bad  enough;  but  since 
he  daubed  over  his  vices  with  h>^ocrisy,  he  seems  to 
have  proved  worse  devil  than  ever.' 

*0h,  Joceline,  come  away,'  said  poor  Phoebe,  'and  do 
not  stand  gazing  on  him  thus ' ;  for  the  woodman,  resting 
on  his  fatal  weapon,  stood  looking  down  on  the  corpse 
with  the  appearance  of  a  man  half-stunned  at  the  event. 

'This  comes  of  the  ale-pitcher,'  she  continued,  in  the 
true  style  of  female  consolation,  'as  I  have  often  told 
you.  For  Heaven's  sake,  come  to  the  lodge,  and  let  us 
consult  what  is  to  be  done.' 

'Stay  first,  girl,  and  let  me  drag  him  out  of  the  path: 
we  must  not  have  him  He  here  in  all  men's  sight.  Will 
you  not  help  me,  wench? ' 

'I  cannot,  Joceline.  I  would  not  touch  a  lock  on  him 
for  all  Woodstock.' 

'I  must  to  this  gear  myself,  then,'  said  Joceline,  who, 
a  soldier  as  well  as  a  woodsman,  still  had  great  reluct- 
ance to  the  necessary  task.  Something  in  the  face  and 
broken  words  of  the  dying  man  had  made  a  deep  and 
terrific  impression  on  nerves  not  easily  shaken.  He  ac- 
complished it,  however,  so  far  as  to  drag  the  late  steward 
out  of  the  open  path,  and  bestow  his  body  amongst  the 

221 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

undergrowth  of  brambles  and  briers,  so  as  not  to  be  vis- 
ible unless  particularly  looked  after.  He  then  returned 
to  Phoebe,  who  had  sate  speechless  all  the  while  beneath 
the  tree  over  whose  roots  she  had  stumbled. 

'Come  away,  wench,'  he  said  —  'come  away  to  the 
lodge,  and  let  us  study  how  this  is  to  be  answered  for: 
the  mishap  of  his  being  killed  will  strangely  increase  our 
danger.  What  had  he  sought  of  thee,  wench,  when  you 
ran  from  him  like  a  mad  woman?  But  I  can  guess:  Phil 
was  always  a  devil  among  the  girls,  and  I  think,  as  Dr. 
Rochechffe  says,  that,  since  he  turned  saint,  he  took  to 
himself  seven  devils  worse  than  himself.  Here  is  the  very 
place  where  I  saw  him  with  his  sword  in  his  hand  raised 
against  the  old  knight,  and  he  a  child  of  the  parish.  It 
was  high  treason  at  least;  but,  by  my  faith,  he  hath  paid 
for  it  at  last.' 

'But,  oh,  Joceline,'  said  Phcebe,  'how  could  you  take 
so  wicked  a  man  into  your  council,  and  join  him  in  all 
his  plots  about  scaring  the  Roundhead  gentlemen?' 

'Why,  look  thee,  wench,  I  thought  I  knew  him  at  the 
first  meeting,  especially  when  Bevis,  who  was  bred  here 
when  he  was  a  dog-leader,  would  not  fly  at  him;  and 
when  we  made  up  our  old  acquaintance  at  the  lodge,  I 
found  he  kept  up  a  close  correspondence  with  Dr.  Roche- 
cliffe,  who  was  persuaded  that  he  was  a  good  king's-man, 
and  held  consequently  good  intelligence  with  him.  The 
Doctor  boasts  to  have  learned  much  through  his  means; 
I  wish  to  Heaven  he  may  not  have  been  as  commun- 
icative in  turn,' 

'Oh,  Joceline,'  said  the  waiting-woman,  'you  should 
never  have  let  him  within  the  gate  of  the  lodge!' 

'No  more  I  would,  if  I  had  known  how  to  keep  him 

222 


WOODSTOCK 

out ;  but  when  he  went  so  frankly  into  our  scheme,  and 
told  me  how  I  was  to  dress  myself  like  Robinson  the 
player,  whose  ghost  haunted  Harrison  —  I  wish  no 
ghost  may  haunt  me!  —  when  he  taught  me  how  to  bear 
myself  to  terrify  his  lawful  master,  what  could  I  think, 
wench?  I  only  trust  the  Doctor  has  kept  the  great  se- 
cret of  all  from  his  knowledge.  But  here  we  are  at  the 
lodge.  Go  to  thy  chamber,  wench,  and  compose  thyself. 
I  must  seek  out  Dr.  Rochecliffe.  He  is  ever  talking  of 
his  quick  and  ready  invention;  here  come  times,  I  think, 
that  will  demand  it  all.' 

Phoebe  went  to  her  chamber  accordingly;  but  the 
strength  arising  from  the  pressure  of  danger  giving 
way  when  the  danger  was  removed,  she  quickly  fell  into 
a  succession  of  hysterical  fits,  which  required  the  con- 
stant attention  of  Dame  Jellicot,  and  the  less  alarmed, 
but  more  judicious,  care  of  Mrs.  Alice,  before  they  even 
abated  in  their  rapid  recurrence. 

The  under-keeper  carried  his  news  to  the  politic  Doc- 
tor, who  was  extremely  disconcerted,  alarmed,  nay,  an- 
gry with  Joceline  for  having  slain  a  person  on  whose 
communications  he  had  accustomed  himself  to  rely.  Yet 
his  looks  declared  his  suspicion  whether  his  confidence 
had  not  been  too  rashly  conferred  —  a  suspicion  which 
pressed  him  the  more  anxiously,  that  he  was  unwilling 
to  avow  it,  as  a  derogation  from  his  character  for  shrewd- 
ness on  which  he  valued  himself. 

Dr.  Rochecliffe's  reliance,  however,  on  the  fidelity  of 
Tomkins  had  apparently  good  grounds.  Before  the 
Civil  Wars,  as  may  be  partly  collected  from  what  has 
been  already  hinted  at,  Tomkins,  under  his  true  name  of 
Hazeldine,  had  been  under  the  protection  of  the  rector 

223 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

of  Woodstock,  occasionally  acted  as  his  clerk,  was  a  dis- 
tinguished member  of  his  choir,  and,  being  a  handy  and 
ingenious  fellow,  was  employed  in  assisting  the  anti- 
quarian researches  of  Dr.  Rochecliffe  through  the  inte- 
rior of  Woodstock.  When  he  engaged  on  the  opposite 
side  in  the  Civil  Wars,  he  still  kept  up  his  intelligence 
with  the  divine,  to  whom  he  had  afforded  what  seemed 
valuable  information  from  time  to  time.  His  assistance 
had  latterly  been  eminently  useful  in  aiding  the  Doctor, 
with  the  assistance  of  Joceline  and  Phoebe,  in  contriving 
and  executing  the  various  devices  by  which  the  ParHa- 
mentary  Commissioners  had  been  expelled  from  Wood- 
stock. Indeed,  his  services  in  this  respect  had  been 
thought  worthy  of  no  less  a  reward  than  a  present  of 
what  plate  remained  at  the  lodge,  which  had  been  pro- 
mised to  the  Independent  accordingly.  The  Doctor, 
therefore,  while  admitting  he  might  be  a  bad  man,  re- 
gretted him  as  a  useful  one,  whose  death,  if  inquired 
after,  was  Hkely  to  bring  additional  danger  on  a  house 
which  danger  already  surrounded,  and  which  contained 
a  pledge  so  precious. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

Cassio.  That  thrust  had  been  mine  enemy  indeed, 
But  that  my  coat  is  better  than  thou  know'st. 

Olhello. 

On  the  dark  October  night  succeeding  the  evening  on 
which  Tomkins  was  slain,  Colonel  Everard,  besides  his 
constant  attendant  Roger  Wildrake,  had  Master  Nehe- 
miah  Holdenough  with  him  as  a  guest  at  supper.  The 
devotions  of  the  evening  having  been  performed  accord- 
ing to  the  Presbyterian  fashion,  a  light  entertainment, 
and  a  double  quart  of  burnt  claret,  were  placed  before 
his  friends  at  nine  o'clock,  an  hour  unusually  late.  Mas- 
ter Holdenough  soon  engaged  himself  in  a  polemical 
discourse  against  sectaries  and  Independents,  without 
being  aware  that  his  eloquence  was  not  very  interesting 
to  his  principal  hearer,  whose  ideas  in  the  meanwhile 
wandered  to  Woodstock  and  all  which  it  contained  — 
the  Prince,  who  lay  concealed  there,  his  uncle,  above  all, 
Alice  Lee.  As  for  Wildrake,  after  bestowing  a  mental 
curse  both  on  sectaries  and  Presbyterians,  as  being, 
in  his  opinion,  never  a  barrel  the  better  herring,  he 
stretched  out  his  limbs,  and  would  probably  have  com- 
posed himself  to  rest,  but  that  he  as  well  as  his  patron 
had  thoughts  which  murdered  sleep. 

The  party  were  waited  upon  by  a  little  gipsy-looking 

boy,  in  an  orange-tawny  doublet,  much  decayed,  and 

garnished  with  blue  worsted  lace.    The  rogue  looked 

somewhat  stinted  in  size,  but  active  both  in  intelligence 

38  225 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

and  in  limb,  as  his  black  eyes  seemed  to  promise  by 
their  vivacity.  He  was  an  attendant  of  Wildrake's 
choice,  who  had  conferred  on  him  the  nom  de  guerre  of 
Spitfire,  and  had  promised  him  promotion  so  soon  as  his 
young  protege,  Breakfast,  was  fit  to  succeed  him  in  his 
present  office.  It  need  scarce  be  said,  that  the  menage 
was  maintained  entirely  at  the  expense  of  Colonel  Ever- 
ard,  who  allowed  Wildrake  to  arrange  the  household 
very  much  according  to  his  pleasure.  The  page  did  not 
omit,  in  offering  the  company  wine  from  time  to  time, 
to  accommodate  Wildrake  with  about  twice  the  num- 
ber of  opportunities  of  refreshing  himself  which  he 
considered  it  necessary  to  afford  to  the  colonel  or  his 
reverend  guest. 

While  they  were  thus  engaged,  the  good  divine  lost 
in  his  own  argument  and  the  hearers  in  their  private 
thoughts,  their  attention  was  about  half-past  ten  ar- 
rested by  a  knocking  at  the  door  of  the  house.  To  those 
who  have  anxious  hearts,  trifles  give  cause  of  alarm. 
Even  a  thing  so  simple  as  a  knock  at  the  door  may  have 
a  character  which  excites  apprehension.  This  was  no 
quiet,  gentle  tap,  intimating  a  modest  intruder;  no  re- 
doubled rattle,  as  the  pompous  armunciation  of  some 
vain  person ;  neither  did  it  resemble  the  formal  summons 
to  formal  business,  nor  the  cheerful  visit  of  some  wel- 
come friend.  It  was  a  single  blow,  solemn  and  stem,  if 
not  actually  menacing,  in  the  sound. 

The  door  was  opened  by  some  of  the  persons  of  the 
house ;  a  heavy  foot  ascended  the  stair,  a  stout  man  en- 
tered the  room,  and,  drawing  the  cloak  from  his  face, 
said,  'Markham  Everard,  I  greet  thee  in  God's  name.' 

It  was  General  Cromwell. 

226 


WOODSTOCK 

Everard,  surprised  and  taken  at  unawares,  endeav- 
oured in  vain  to  find  words  to  express  his  astonishment. 
A  bustle  occurred  in  receiving  the  General,  assisting  him 
to  uncloak  himself,  and  offering  in  dumb  show  the  civil- 
ities of  reception. 

The  General  cast  his  keen  eye  around  the  apartment, 
and  fixing  it  first  on  the  divine,  addressed  Everard  as 
follows:  — 

*A  reverend  man  I  see  is  with  thee.  Thou  art  not  one 
of  those,  good  Markham,  who  let  the  time  unnoted  and 
unimproved  pass  away.  Casting  aside  the  things  of  this 
world,  pressing  forward  to  those  of  the  next,  it  is  by  thus 
using  our  time  in  this  poor  seat  of  terrestrial  sin  and  care 
that  we  may,  as  it  were  —  But  how  is  this? '  he  con- 
tinued, suddenly  changing  his  tone,  and  speaking  briefly, 
sharply,  and  anxiously  —  'one  hath  left  the  room  since 
I  entered?  * 

Wildrake  had,  indeed,  been  absent  for  a  minute  or  two, 
but  had  now  returned,  and  stepped  forward  from  a  bay 
window,  as  if  he  had  been  out  of  sight  only,  not  out  of 
the  apartment.  'Not  so,  sir,  I  stood  but  in  the  back- 
ground out  of  respect.  Noble  General,  I  hope  all  is  well 
with  the  estate,  that  your  Excellency  makes  us  so  late 
a  visit?  Would  not  your  Excellency  choose  some  —  ' 

'Ah!'  said  Oliver,  looking  sternly  and  fixedly  at  him, 
'our  trusty  go-between  —  our  faithful  confidant.  No, 
sir;  at  present,  I  desire  nothing  more  than  a  kind  recep- 
tion, which,  methinks,  my  friend  Markham  Everard  is 
in  no  hurry  to  give  me.' 

'You  bring  your  own  welcome,  my  lord,'  said  Everard, 
compelling  himself  to  speak.  'I  can  only  trust  it  was 
no  bad  news  that  made  your  Excellency  a  late  traveller, 

227 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

and  ask,  like  my  follower,  what  refreshment  I  shall  com- 
mand for  your  accommodation.' 

'The  state  is  sound  and  healthy,  Colonel  Everard,' 
said  the  General ;  '  and  yet  the  less  so,  that  many  of  its 
members,  who  have  been  hitherto  workers  together,  and 
propounders  of  good  counsel,  and  advancers  of  the  pub- 
lic weal,  have  now  waxed  cold  in  their  love  and  in  their 
affection  for  the  good  cause,  for  which  we  should  be 
ready,  in  our  various  degrees,  to  act  and  do,  so  soon  as 
we  are  called  to  act  that  whereunto  we  are  appointed, 
neither  rashly  nor  over-slothfully,  neither  lukewarmly 
nor  over-violently,  but  with  such  a  frame  and  disposi- 
tion in  which  zeal  and  charity  may,  as  it  were,  meet  and 
kiss  each  other  in  our  streets.  Howbeit,  because  we  look 
back  after  we  have  put  our  hand  to  the  plough,  there- 
fore is  our  force  waxed  dim.' 

'Pardon  me,  sir,'  said  Nehemiah  Holdenough,  who, 
listening  with  some  impatience,  began  to  guess  in  whose 
company  he  stood  —  'pardon  me,  for  unto  this  I  have  a 
warrant  to  speak.' 

'Ah!  ah!'  said  Cromwell.  'Surely,  most  worthy  sir, 
we  grieve  the  Spirit  when  we  restrain  those  pourings 
forth,  which,  like  water  from  a  rock  — ' 

'Nay,  therein  I  differ  from  you,  sir,'  said  Holdenough; 
'for,  as  there  is  the  mouth  to  transmit  the  food,  and 
the  profit  to  digest  what  Heaven  hath  sent,  so  is  the 
preacher  ordained  to  teach,  and  the  people  to  hear, 
the  shepherd  to  gather  the  flock  into  the  sheepfold,  the 
sheep  to  profit  by  the  care  of  the  shepherd.' 

'Ah!  my  worthy  sir,'  said  Cromwell,  with  much  unc- 
tion, 'methinks  you  verge  upon  the  great  mistake  which 
supposes  that  churches  are  tall,  large  houses  built  by 

228 


WOODSTOCK 

masons,  and  hearers  are  men  —  wealthy  men,  who  pay 
tithes,  the  larger  as  well  as  the  less;  and  that  the  priests, 
men  in  black  gowns  or  grey  cloaks,  who  receive  the  same 
are  in  guerdon  the  only  distributors  of  Christian  bless- 
ings. Whereas,  in  my  apprehension,  there  is  more  of 
Christian  liberty  in  leaving  it  to  the  discretion  of  the 
hungry  soul  to  seek  his  edification  where  it  can  be  found, 
whether  from  the  mouth  of  a  lay  teacher,  who  claimeth 
his  warrant  from  Heaven  alone,  or  at  the  dispensation 
of  those  who  take  ordination  and  degrees  from  synods 
and  universities,  at  best  but  associations  of  poor  sinful 
creatures  like  themselves.' 

'You  speak  you  know  not  what,  sir,'  rephed  Hold- 
enough,  impatiently.  *  Can  light  come  out  of  darkness, 
sense  out  of  ignorance,  or  knowledge  of  the  mysteries  of 
religion  from  such  ignorant  mediciners  as  give  poisons 
instead  of  wholesome  medicaments,  and  cram  with  filth 
the  stomachs  of  such  as  seek  to  them  for  food?' 

This,  which  the  Presbyterian  divine  uttered  rather 
warmly,  the  General  answered  with  the  utmost  mildness. 

*Lack-a-day  —  lack-a-day !  a  learned  man,  but  intem- 
perate: over-zeal  hath  eaten  him  up.  A  well-a-day,  sir, 
you  may  talk  of  your  regular  Gospel  meals,  but  a  word 
spoken  in  season  by  one  whose  heart  is  with  your  heart, 
just  perhaps  when  you  are  riding  on  to  encounter  an 
enemy,  or  are  about  to  mount  a  breach,  is  to  the  poor 
spirit  Hke  a  rasher  on  the  coals,  which  the  hungry  shall 
find  preferable  to  a  great  banquet,  at  such  times  when 
the  full  soul  loatheth  the  honeycomb.  Nevertheless, 
although  I  speak  thus  in  my  poor  judgment,  I  would  not 
put  force  on  the  conscience  of  any  m.an,  leaving  to  the 
learned  to  follow  the  learned,  and  the  wise  to  be  in- 

229 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

structed  by  the  wise,  while  poor,  simple,  wretched  souls 
are  not  to  be  denied  a  drink  from  the  stream  which 
runneth  by  the  way.  Ay,  verily,  it  will  be  a  comely 
sight  in  England  when  men  shall  go  on  as  in  a  better 
world,  bearing  with  each  other's  infirmities,  joining  in 
each  other's  comforts.  Ay,  truly,  the  rich  drink  out  of 
silver  flagons  and  goblets  of  silver,  the  poor  out  of  paltry 
bowls  of  wood;  and  even  so  let  it  be,  since  they  both 
drink  the  same  element.' 

Here  an  officer  opened  the  door  and  looked  in,  to 
whom  Cromwell,  exchanging  the  canting  drawl,  in  which 
it  seemed  he  might  have  gone  on  interminably,  for  the 
short  brief  tone  of  action,  called  out,  'Pearson,  is  he 
come?' 

'No,  sir,'  repHed  Pearson;  *we  have  inquired  for  him 
at  the  place  you  noted,  and  also  at  other  haunts  of  his 
about  the  town.' 

*The  knave!'  said  Cromwell,  with  bitter  emphasis; 
*  can  he  have  proved  false?  No  —  no,  his  interest  is  too 
deeply  engaged.  We  shall  find  him  by  and  by.  Hark 
thee  hither.' 

While  this  conversation  was  going  forward,  the  reader 
must  imagine  the  alarm  of  Everard.  He  was  certain  that 
the  personal  attendance  of  Cromwell  must  be  on  some 
most  important  account,  and  he  could  not  but  strongly 
suspect  that  the  General  had  some  information  respect- 
ing Charles's  lurking-place.  If  taken,  a  renewal  of  the 
tragedy  of  the  Thirtieth  of  January  was  instantly  to  be 
apprehended,  and  the  ruin  of  the  whole  family  of  Lee, 
with  himself  probably  included,  must  be  the  necessary 
consequence. 

He  looked  eagerly  for  consolation  at  Wildrake,  whose 
230 


WOODSTOCK 

countenance  expressed  much  alarm,  which  he  endeav- 
oured to  bear  out  with  his  usual  look  of  confidence.  But 
the  weight  within  was  too  great:  he  shuffled  with  his 
feet,  rolled  his  eyes,  and  twisted  his  hands,  like  an  unas- 
sured witness  before  an  acute  and  not  to  be  deceived 
judge. 

Oliver,  meanwhUe,  left  his  company  not  a  minute's 
leisure  to  take  counsel  together.  Even  while  his  per- 
plexed eloquence  flowed  on  in  a  stream  so  mazy  that  no 
one  could  discover  which  way  its  course  was  tending,  his 
sharp,  watchful  eye  rendered  all  attempts  of  Everard  to 
hold  communication  with  Wildrake,  even  by  signs,  alto- 
gether vain.  Everard,  indeed,  looked  for  an  instant  at 
the  window,  then  glanced  at  Wildrake,  as  if  to  hint 
there  might  be  a  possibility  to  escape  that  way.  But  the 
Cavalier  had  replied  with  a  disconsolate  shake  of  the 
head,  so  slight  as  to  be  almost  imperceptible.  Everard, 
therefore,  lost  all  hope,  and  the  melancholy  feeling  of 
approaching  and  inevitable  evil  was  only  varied  by 
anxiety  concerning  the  shape  and  manner  in  which  it 
was  about  to  make  its  approach. 

But  Wildrake  had  a  spark  of  hope  left.  The  very  in- 
stant Cromwell  entered  he  had  got  out  of  the  room  and 
down  to  the  door  of  the  house.  *  Back  —  back ! '  repeated 
by  two  armed  sentinels,  convinced  him  that,  as  his  fears 
had  anticipated,  the  General  had  come  neither  unat- 
tended nor  unprepared.  He  turned  on  his  heel,  ran  up- 
stairs, and  meeting  on  the  landing-place  the  boy  whom 
he  called  Spitfire,  hurried  him  into  the  small  apartment 
which  he  occupied  as  his  own.  Wildrake  had  been 
shooting  that  morning,  and  game  lay  on  the  table.  He 
pulled  a  feather  from  a  woodcock's  wing,  and  saying 

231 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

hastily,  'For  thy  life,  Spitfire,  mind  my  orders.  I  will 
put  thee  safe  out  at  the  window  into  the  court;  the  yard 
wall  is  not  high,  and  there  will  be  no  sentry  there.  Fly  to 
the  lodge,  as  thou  wouldst  win  Heaven,  and  give  this 
feather  to  Mistress  Alice  Lee,  if  possible;  if  not,  to 
Joceline  Joliffe;  say  I  have  won  the  wager  of  the  young 
lady.  Dost  mark  me,  boy?' 

The  sharp-witted  youth  clapped  his  hand  in  his  mas- 
ter's and  only  replied,  'Done,  and  done.' 

Wildrake  opened  the  window,  and,  though  the  height 
was  considerable,  he  contrived  to  let  the  boy  down 
safely  by  holding  his  cloak.  A  heap  of  straw  on  which 
Spitfire  lighted  rendered  the  descent  perfectly  safe,  and 
Wildrake  saw  him  scramble  over  the  wall  of  the  court- 
yard, at  the  angle  which  bore  on  a  back  lane;  and  so 
rapidly  was  this  accomplished,  that  the  Cavalier  had 
just  reentered  the  room  when,  the  bustle  attending 
Cromwell's  arrival  subsiding,  his  own  absence  began  to 
be  noticed. 

He  remained,  during  Cromwell's  lecture  on  the  vanity 
of  creeds,  anxious  in  mind  whether  he  might  not  have 
done  better  to  send  an  explicit  verbal  message,  since 
there  was  no  time  to  write.  But  the  chance  of  the  boy 
being  stopped,  or  becoming  confused  with  feeling  him- 
self the  messenger  of  a  hurried  and  important  communi- 
cation, made  him,  on  the  whole,  glad  that  he  had  pre- 
ferred a  more  enigmatical  way  of  conveying  the  intelli- 
gence. He  had,  therefore,  the  advantage  of  his  patron, 
for  he  was  conscious  still  of  a  spark  of  hope. 

Pearson  had  scarce  shut  the  door,  when  Holdenough, 
as  ready  in  arms  against  the  future  Dictator  as  he  had 
been  prompt  to  encounter  the  supposed  phantoms  and 

232 


WOODSTOCK 

fiends  of  Woodstock,  resumed  his  attack  upon  the 
schismatics,  whom  he  undertook  to  prove  to  be  at  once 
soul-slayers,  false  brethren,  and  false  messengers;  and 
was  proceeding  to  allege  texts  in  behalf  of  his  pro- 
position, when  Cromwell,  apparently  tired  of  the  dis- 
cussion, and  desirous  to  introduce  a  discourse  more 
accordant  with  his  real  feelings,  interrupted  him, 
though  very  civilly,  and  took  the  discourse  into  his 
own  hands. 

*Lack-a-day,'  he  said,  'the  good  man  speaks  truth 
according  to  his  knowledge  and  to  his  lights  —  ay,  bitter 
truths,  and  hard  to  be  digested,  while  we  see  as  men  see, 
and  not  with  the  eyes  of  angels.  False  messengers,  said 
the  reverend  man?  Ay,  truly,  the  world  is  full  of  such. 
You  shall  see  them  who  will  carry  your  secret  message 
to  the  house  of  your  mortal  foe,  and  will  say  to  him, 
"Lo!  my  master  is  going  forth  with  a  small  train,  by 
such  and  such  desolate  places ;  be  you  speedy,  therefore, 
that  you  may  arise  and  slay  him."  And  another,  who 
knoweth  where  the  foe  of  your  house  and  enemy  of  your 
person  lies  hidden,  shall,  instead  of  telling  his  master 
thereof,  carry  tidings  to  the  enemy  even  where  he  lurk- 
eth,  saying,  "Lo!  my  master  knoweth  of  your  secret 
abode;  up,  now,  and  fly,  lest  he  come  on  thee  Hke  a  lion 
on  his  prey."  But  shall  this  go  without  punishment?' 
looking  at  Wildrake  with  a  withering  glance.  'Now,  as 
my  soul  liveth,  and  as  He  liveth  who  hath  made  me  a 
ruler  in  Israel,  such  false  messengers  shall  be  knitted  to 
gibbets  on  the  wayside,  and  their  right  hands  shall  be 
nailed  above  their  heads,  in  an  extended  position,  as  if 
pointing  out  to  others  the  road  from  which  they  them- 
selves have  strayed.' 

233 


.WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

'Surely/  said  Master  Holdenough,  'it  is  right  to  cut 
off  such  offenders.' 

'Thank  ye,  Mass  John,'  muttered  Wildrake;  'when 
did  the  Presbyterian  fail  to  lend  the  Devil  a  shove? ' 

'But,  I  say,'  continued  Holdenough,  'that  the  matter 
is  estranged  from  our  present  purpose,  for  the  false 
brethren  of  whom  I  spoke  are  — * 

'Right,  excellent  sir,  they  be  those  of  our  own  house,' 
answered  Cromwell:  'the  good  man  is  right  once  more. 
Ay,  of  whom  can  we  now  say  that  he  is  a  true  brother, 
although  he  has  lain  in  the  same  womb  with  us?  Al- 
though we  have  struggled  in  the  same  cause,  eat  at  the 
same  table,  fought  in  the  same  battle,  worshipped  at  the 
same  throne,  there  shall  be  no  truth  in  him.  Ah,  Mark- 
ham  Everard  —  Markham  Everard!* 

He  paused  at  this  ejaculation;  and  Everard,  desirous 
at  once  of  knowing  how  far  he  stood  committed,  replied, 
'Your  Excellency  seems  to  have  something  in  your 
mind  in  which  I  am  concerned.  May  I  request  you  will 
speak  it  out,  that  I  may  know  what  I  am  accused  of? ' 

'Ah,  Mark  —  Mark!'  replied  the  General,  'there 
needeth  no  accuser  speak  when  the  still  small  voice 
speaks  within  us.  Is  there  not  moisture  on  thy  brow, 
Mark  Everard?  Is  there  not  trouble  in  thine  eye?  Is 
there  not  a  failure  in  thy  frame?  And  who  ever  saw  such 
things  in  noble  and  stout  Markham  Everard,  whose 
brow  was  only  moist  after  having  worn  the  helmet  for  a 
summer's  day,  whose  hand  only  shook  when  it  had 
wielded  for  hours  the  weighty  falchion?  But  go  to,  man! 
thou  doubtest  over-much.  Hast  thou  not  been  to  me  as 
a  brother,  and  shall  I  not  forgive  thee  even  the  seventy- 
seventh  time?  The  knave  hath  tarried  somewhere,  who 

234 


WOODSTOCK 

should  have  done  by  this  time  an  office  of  much  import. 
Take  advantage  of  his  absence,  Mark :  it  is  a  grace  that 
God  gives  thee  beyond  expectance.  I  do  not  say,  fall  at 
my  feet;  but  speak  to  me  as  a  friend  to  his  friend.' 

'1  have  never  said  anything  to  your  Excellency  that 
was  in  the  least  undeserving  the  title  you  have  assigned 
to  me,'  said  Colonel  Everard,  proudly. 

*Nay  —  nay,  Markham,'  answered  Cromwell;  *I  say 
not  you  have.  But  —  but  you  ought  to  have  remem- 
bered the  message  I  sent  you  by  that  person  (pointing  to 
Wildrake);  and  you  must  reconcile  it  with  your  con- 
science, how,  having  such  a  message,  guarded  with  such 
reasons,  you  could  think  yourself  at  liberty  to  expel  my 
friends  from  Woodstock,  being  determined  to  disappoint 
my  object,  whilst  you  availed  yourself  of  the  boon  on 
condition  of  which  my  warrant  was  issued.' 

Everard  was  about  to  reply,  when,  to  his  astonish- 
ment, Wildrake  stepped  forward;  and  with  a  voice  and 
look  very  different  from  his  ordinary  manner,  and  ap- 
proaching a  good  deal  to  real  dignity  of  mind,  said, 
boldly  and  calmly,  'You  are  mistaken.  Master  Crom- 
well, and  address  yourself  to  the  wrong  party  here.' 

The  speech  was  so  sudden  and  intrepid,  that  Cromwell 
stepped  a  pace  back,  and  motioned  with  his  right  hand 
towards  his  weapon,  as  if  he  had  expected  that  an  ad- 
dress of  a  nature  so  unusually  bold  was  to  be  followed 
by  some  act  of  violence.  He  instantly  resumed  his  in- 
dififerent  posture;  and,  irritated  at  a  smile  which  he 
observed  on  Wildrake's  countenance,  he  said,  with  the 
dignity  of  one  long  accustomed  to  see  all  tremble  before 
him,  'This  to  me,  fellow!  Know  you  to  whom  you 
speak? ' 

235 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'Fellow!'  echoed  Wildrake,  whose  reckless  humour 
was  now  completely  set  afloat.  'No  fellow  of  yours, 
Master  Oliver.  I  have  known  the  day  when  Roger  Wild- 
rake of  Squattlesea  Mere,  Lincoln,  a  handsome  young 
gallant,  with  a  good  estate,  would  have  been  thought  no 
fellow  of  the  bankrupt  brewer  of  Huntingdon.' 

'Be  silent,'  said  Everard  —  'be  silent,  Wildrake,  if 
you  love  your  Hfe!' 

'I  care  not  a  maravedi  for  my  life,'  said  Wildrake. 
'Zounds,  if  he  dislikes  what  I  say,  let  him  take  to  his 
tools!  I  know,  after  all,  he  hath  good  blood  in  his  veins; 
and  I  will  indulge  him  with  a  turn  in  the  court  yonder, 
had  he  been  ten  times  a  brewer.' 

'Such  ribaldry,  friend,'  said  Oliver,  'I  treat  with  the 
contempt  it  deserves.  But  if  thou  hast  anything  to  say 
touching  the  matter  in  question,  speak  out  like  a  man, 
though  thou  look'st  more  like  a  beast.' 

'All  I  have  to  say  is,'  repHed  Wildrake,  'that,  whereas 
you  blame  Everard  for  acting  on  your  warrant,  as  you 
call  it,  I  can  tell  you,  he  knew  not  a  word  of  the  rascally 
conditions  you  talk  of.  I  took  care  of  that;  and  you  may 
take  the  vengeance  on  me,  if  you  list.' 

'  Slave !  dare  you  tell  this  to  me  ? '  said  Cromwell,  still 
heedfully  restraining  his  passion,  which  he  felt  was  about 
to  discharge  itself  upon  an  unworthy  object. 

'Ay,  you  will  make  every  Englishman  a  slave,  if  you 
have  your  own  way,'  said  Wildrake,  not  a  whit  abashed; 
for  the  awe  which  had  formerly  overcome  him  when 
alone  with  this  remarkable  man  had  vanished,  now  that 
they  were  engaged  in  an  altercation  before  witnesses. 
'But  do  your  worst,  Master  Oliver;  I  tell  you  before- 
hand, the  bird  has  escaped  you.' 

236 


WOODSTOCK 

*You  dare  not  say  so!  Escaped!  So,  ho!  Pearson,  tell 
the  soldiers  to  mount  instantly.  Thou  art  a  lying  fool! 
Escaped!  Where,  or  from  whence?' 

*Ay,  that  is  the  question,'  said  Wildrake;  'for  look 
you,  sir,  that  men  do  go  from  hence  is  certain;  but  how 
they  go,  or  to  what  quarter  — ' 

Cromwell  stood  attentive,  expecting  some  useful  hint, 
from  the  careless  impetuosity  of  the  Cavalier,  upon  the 
route  which  the  King  might  have  taken. 

—  'Or  to  what  quarter,  as  I  said  before,  why,  your 
Excellency,  Master  Oliver,  may  e'en  find  that  out  your- 
self.' 

As  he  uttered  the  last  words,  he  unsheathed  his  rapier, 
and  made  a  full  pass  at  the  General's  body.  Had  his 
sword  met  no  other  impediment  than  the  buff  jerkin, 
Cromwell's  course  had  ended  on  the  spot.  But,  fearful 
of  such  attempts,  the  General  wore  under  his  military 
dress  a  shirt  of  the  finest  mail,  made  of  rings  of  the  best 
steel,  and  so  light  and  flexible  that  it  was  little  or  no  en- 
cumbrance to  the  motions  of  the  wearer.  It  proved  his 
safety  on  this  occasion,  for  the  rapier  sprung  in  shivers; 
while  the  owner,  now  held  back  by  Everard  and  Hold- 
enough,  flung  the  hilt  with  passion  on  the  ground,  ex- 
claiming, 'Be  damned  the  hand  that  forged  thee!  To 
serve  me  so  long,  and  fail  me  when  thy  true  service 
would  have  honoured  us  both  for  ever!  But  no  good 
could  come  of  thee,  since  thou  wert  pointed,  even  in  jest, 
at  a  learned  divine  of  the  Church  of  England.' 

In  the  first  instant  of  alarm,  and  perhaps  suspecting 
Wildrake  might  be  supported  by  others,  Cromwell  half 
drew  from  his  bosom  a  concealed  pistol,  which  he  hastily 
returned,  observing  that  both  Everard  and  the  clergy- 

237 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

man  were  withholding  the  Cavalier  from  another  at- 
tempt. 

Pearson  and  a  soldier  or  two  rushed  in.  *  Secure  that 
fellow,'  said  the  General,  in  the  indifferent  tone  of  one 
to  whom  imminent  danger  was  too  familiar  to  cause 
irritation.  '  Bind  him,  but  not  so  hard,  Pearson ' ;  for  the 
men,  to  show  their  zeal,  were  drawing  their  belts,  which 
they  used  for  want  of  cords,  brutally  tight  round  Wild- 
rake's  limbs.  'He  would  have  assassinated  me,  but  I 
would  reserve  him  for  his  fit  doom.' 

'Assassinated!  I  scorn  your  words.  Master  Oliver/ 
said  Wildrake:  'I  proffered  you  a  fair  duello.' 

'Shall  we  shoot  him  in  the  street,  for  an  example?' 
said  Pearson  to  Cromwell;  while  Everard  endeavoured 
to  stop  Wildrake  from  giving  further  offence. 

'On  your  life,  harm  him  not;  but  let  him  be  kept  in 
safe  ward,  and  well  looked  after,'  said  Cromwell;  while 
the  prisoner  exclaimed  to  Everard,  'I  prithee  let  me 
alone.  I  am  now  neither  thy  follower  nor  any  man's, 
and  I  am  as  willing  to  die  as  ever  I  was  to  take  a  cup  of 
Uquor.  And  harkye,  speaking  of  that,  Master  OUver, 
you  were  once  a  jolly  fellow,  prithee  let  one  of  thy 
lobsters  here  advance  yonder  tankard  to  my  lips,  and 
your  Excellency  shall  hear  a  toast,  a  song,  and  a  — 
secret.' 

'Unloose  his  head,  and  hand  the  debauched  beast  the 
tankard,'  said  Oliver;  'while  yet  he  exists,  it  were  shame 
to  refuse  him  the  element  he  lives  in.' 

'Blessings  on  your  head  for  once!'  said  WUdrake, 
whose  object  in  continuing  this  wild  discourse  was,  if 
possible,  to  gain  a  Httle  delay,  when  every  moment  was 
precious.    'Thou  hast  brewed   good  ale,   and   that's 

238 


WOODSTOCK 

warrant  for  a  blessing.  For  my  toast  and  my  song,  here 
they  go  together  — 

Son  of  a  witch, 

Mayst  thou  die  in  a  ditch, 

With  the  butchers  who  back  thy  quarrels; 
And  rot  above  ground. 
While  the  world  shall  resound 

A  welcome  to  Royal  King  Charles! 

And  now  for  my  secret,  that  you  may  not  say  I  had  your 
liquor  for  nothing  —  I  fancy  my  song  will  scarce  pass 
current  for  much.  My  secret  is,  Master  Cromwell,  that 
the  bird  is  flown,  and  your  red  nose  will  be  as  white  as 
your  winding  sheet  before  you  can  smell  out  which  way.* 

'Pshaw,  rascal,'  answered  Cromwell,  contemptuously, 
'keep  your  scurril  jests  for  the  gibbet  foot.' 

*  I  shall  look  on  the  gibbet  more  boldly,'  rephed  Wild- 
rake,  '  than  I  have  seen  you  look  on  the  Royal  Martyr's 
picture.' 

This  reproach  touched  Cromwell  to  the  very  quick. 
'Villain!'  he  exclaimed;  'drag  him  hence,  draw  out  a 
party,  and  —  But  hold,  not  now  —  to  prison  with  him; 
let  him  be  close  watched,  and  gagged  if  he  attempts  to 
speak  to  the  sentinels.  Nay,  hold  —  I  mean,  put  a  bottle 
of  brandy  into  his  cell,  and  he  will  gag  himself  in  his  own 
way,  I  warrant  you.  When  day  comes,  that  men  can  see 
the  example,  he  shall  be  gagged  after  my  fashion.' 

During  the  various  breaks  in  his  orders,  the  General 
was  evidently  getting  command  of  his  temper;  and 
though  he  began  in  fury,  he  ended  with  the  contempt- 
uous sneer  of  one  who  overlooks  the  abusive  language  of 
an  inferior.  Something  remained  on  his  mind  notwith- 
standing, for  he  continued  standing,  as  if  fixed  to  the 
same  spot  in  the  apartment,  his  eyes  bent  on  the  ground, 

239 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

and  with  closed  hand  pressed  against  his  lips,  like  a  man 
who  is  musing  deeply.  Pearson,  who  was  about  to  speak 
to  him,  drew  back,  and  made  a  sign  to  those  in  the  room 
to  be  silent. 

Master  Holdenough  did  not  mark,  or,  at  least,  did  not 
obey,  it.  Approaching  the  General,  he  said,  in  a  respect- 
ful but  firm  tone,  'Did  I  understand  it  to  be  your 
Excellency's  purpose  that  this  poor  man  shall  die  next 
morning?' 

'  Hah ! '  exclaimed  Cromwell,  starting  from  his  reverie, 
'what  say'st  thou?' 

'I  took  leave  to  ask  if  it  was  your  will  that  this  un- 
happy man  should  die  to-morrow?' 

'Whom  saidst  thou?'  demanded  Cromwell.  'Mark- 
ham  Everard  —  shall  he  die,  saidst  thou?' 

'God  forbid!'  repHed  Holdenough,  stepping  back.  'I 
asked  whether  this  blinded  creature,  Wildrake,  was  to  be 
so  suddenly  cut  off  ? ' 

'Ay,  marry  is  he,'  said  Cromwell,  'were  the  whole 
General  Assembly  of  Divines  at  Westminster,  the  whole 
Sanhedrim  of  Presbytery,  to  offer  bail  for  him.' 

'If  you  will  not  think  better  of  it,  sir,'  said  Hold- 
enough,  'at  least  give  not  the  poor  man  the  means  of 
destroying  his  senses.  Let  me  go  to  him  as  a  divine,  to 
watch  with  him,  in  case  he  may  yet  be  admitted  into  the 
vineyard  at  the  latest  hour  —  yet  brought  into  the 
sheepfold,  though  he  has  neglected  the  call  of  the  pastor 
till  time  is  wellnigh  closed  upon  him.' 

'  For  God's  sake,'  said  Everard,  who  had  hitherto  kept 
silence,  because  he  knew  Cromwell's  temper  on  such 
occasions,  '  think  better  of  what  you  do ! ' 
.  '  Is  it  for  thee  to  teach  me? '  replied  Cromwell.  '  Think 

240 


WOODSTOCK 

thou  of  thine  own  matters,  and  believe  me  it  will  require 
all  thy  wit.  And  for  you,  reverend  sir,  I  will  have  no 
father-confessors  attend  my  prisoners  —  no  tales  out  of 
school.  If  the  fellow  thirsts  after  ghostly  comfort,  as  he 
is  much  more  Hke  to  thirst  after  a  quartern  of  brandy, 
there  is  Corporal  Humgudgeon,  who  commands  the 
corps  de  garde,  will  preach  and  pray  as  well  as  the  best  of 
ye.  But  this  delay  is  intolerable;  comes  not  this  fellow 
yet?' 

'No,  sir,'  replied  Pearson.  'Had  we  not  better  go 
down  to  the  lodge?  The  news  of  our  coming  hither  may 
else  get  there  before  us.' 

'True,'  said  Cromwell,  speaking  aside  to  his  officer, 
'but  you  know  Tomkins  warned  us  against  doing  so, 
alleging  there  were  so  many  postern-doors,  and  sally- 
ports, and  concealed  entrances  in  the  old  house,  that  it 
was  like  a  rabbit-warren,  and  that  an  escape  might  be 
easily  made  under  our  very  noses,  unless  he  were  with 
us,  to  point  out  all  the  ports  which  should  be  guarded. 
He  hinted,  too,  that  he  might  be  delayed  a  few  minutes 
after  his  time  of  appointment ;  but  we  have  now  waited 
half  an  hour.' 

'  Does  your  Excellency  think  Tomkins  is  certainly  to 
be  depended  upon? '  said  Pearson. 

'As  far  as  his  interest  goes,  unquestionably,'  replied 
the  General.  'He  has  ever  been  the  pump  by  which  I 
have  sucked  the  marrow  out  of  many  a  plot,  in  special 
those  of  the  conceited  fool  Rochecliffe,  who  is  goose 
enough  to  believe  that  such  a  fellow  as  Tomkins  would 
value  anything  beyond  the  offer  of  the  best  bidder.  And 
yet  it  groweth  late  —  I  fear  wc  must  to  the  lodge  with- 
out him.  Yet,  all  things  well  considered,  I  will  tarry  here 
38  241 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

till  midnight.  Ah!  Everard,  thou  mightest  put  this  gear 
to  rights  if  thou  wilt!  Shall  some  foolish  principle  of 
fantastic  punctilio  have  more  weight  with  thee,  man, 
than  have  the  pacification  and  welfare  of  England,  the 
keeping  of  faith  to  thy  friend  and  benefactor,  and  who 
will  be  yet  more  so,  and  the  fortune  and  security  of  thy 
relations?  Are  these,  I  say,  hghter  in  the  balance  than 
the  cause  of  a  worthless  boy,  who  with  his  father  and 
his  father's  house  have  troubled  Israel  for  fifty  years?' 

'I  do  not  understand  your  Excellency,  nor  at  what 
service  you  point,  which  I  can  honestly  render,'  replied 
Everard.  'That  which  is  dishonest  I  should  be  loth  that 
you  proposed.' 

'Then  this  at  least  might  suit  your  honesty,  or  scrupu- 
lous hiunour,  call  it  which  thou  wilt,'  said  Cromwell. 
'Thou  knowest,  surely,  all  the  passages  about  Jezebel's 
palace  down  yonder  ?  Let  me  know  how  they  may  be 
guarded  against  the  escape  of  any  from  within.' 

'I  cannot  pretend  to  aid  you  in  this  matter,'  said 
Everard:  'I  know  not  all  the  entrances  and  posterns 
about  Woodstock,  and  if  I  did,  I  am  not  free  in  con- 
science to  communicate  with  you  on  this  occasion.' 

'We  shall  do  without  you,  sir,'  repHed  Cromwell, 
haughtily;  'and  if  aught  is  found  which  may  criminate 
you,  remember  you  have  lost  right  to  my  protection.' 

'I  shall  be  sorry,'  said  Everard,  'to  have  lost  your 
friendship.  General ;  but  I  trust  my  quality  as  an  Eng- 
lishman may  dispense  with  the  necessity  of  protection 
from  any  man.  I  know  no  law  which  obliges  me  to  be 
spy  or  informer,  even  if  I  were  in  the  way  of  having 
opportunity  to  do  service  in  either  honourable  capacity.' 

'Well,  sir,'  said  Cromwell,  'for  all  your  privileges  and 
242 


WOODSTOCK 

qualities,  I  will  make  bold  to  take  you  down  to  the  lodge 
at  Woodstock  to-night,  to  inquire  into  affairs  in  which 
the  state  is  concerned.  Come  hither,  Pearson.'  He  took 
a  paper  from  his  pocket  containing  a  rough  sketch  or 
ground-plan  of  Woodstock  Lodge,  vdth  the  avenues 
leading  to  it.  'Look  here,'  he  said,  *we  must  move  in 
two  bodies  on  foot,  and  with  all  possible  silence;  thou 
must  march  to  the  rear  of  the  old  house  of  iniquity  with 
twenty  file  of  men,  and  dispose  them  around  it  the  wisest 
thou  canst.  Take  the  reverend  man  there  along  with 
you.  He  must  be  secured  at  any  rate,  and  may  serve  as 
a  guide.  I  myself  will  occupy  the  front  of  the  lodge,  and 
thus  having  stopt  all  the  earths,  thou  wilt  come  to  me 
for  further  orders;  silence  and  despatch  is  all.  But  for 
the  dog  Tomkins,  who  broke  appointment  with  me,  he 
had  need  render  a  good  excuse,  or  woe  to  his  father's  son! 
Reverend  sir,  be  pleased  to  accompany  that  officer. 
Colonel  Everard,  you  are  to  follow  me;  but  first  give 
your  sword  to  Captain  Pearson,  and  consider  yourself 
as  under  arrest.' 

Everard  gave  his  sword  to  Pearson  without  any  com- 
ment, and  with  the  most  anxious  presage  of  evil  followed 
the  RepubUcan  General,  in  obedience  to  commands 
which  it  would  have  been  useless  to  dispute. 


CHAPTER  XXXI 


'Were  my  son  William  here  but  now, 

He  wadna  fail  the  pledge.' 
Wi'  that  in  at  the  door  there  ran 

A  ghastly-looking  page  — 
'I  saw  them,  master,  O!  I  saw. 

Beneath  the  thornie  brae, 
Of  black-mail'd  warriors  many  a  rank.' 

'Revengel'  he  cried,  'and  gael' 

Henry  Mackenzie. 


The  little  party  at  the  lodge  were  assembled  at  supper, 
at  the  early  hour  of  eight  o'clock.  Sir  Henry  Lee,  neg- 
lecting the  food  that  was  placed  on  the  table,  stood  by 
a  lamp  on  the  chimney-piece,  and  read  a  letter  with 
mournful  attention. 

'  Does  my  son  write  to  you  more  particularly  than  to 
me,  Dr.  RochecHff  e? '  said  the  knight.  '  He  only  says  here 
that  he  will  return  probably  this  night;  and  that  Master 
Kerneguy  must  be  ready  to  set  off  with  him  instantly. 
What  can  this  haste  mean?  Have  you  heard  of  any  new 
search  after  our  suffering  party?  I  wish  they  would 
permit  me  to  enjoy  my  son's  company  in  quiet  but  for 
a  day.' 

'The  quiet  which  depends  on  the  wicked  ceasing  from 
troubling,'  said  Dr.  Rochecliffe,  'is  connected,  not  by 
days  and  hours,  but  by  minutes.  Their  glut  of  blood  at 
Worcester  had  satiated  them  for  a  moment,  but  their 
appetite,  I  fancy,  has  revived.' 

'You  have  news,  then,  to  that  purpose?'  said  Sir 
Henry. 

'Your  son,'  replied  the  Doctor,  'wrote  to  me  by  the 

244 


WOODSTOCK 

same  messenger;  he  seldom  fails  to  do  so,  being  aware  of 
what  importance  it  is  that  I  should  know  everything 
that  passes.  Means  of  escape  are  provided  on  the  coast, 
and  Master  Kerneguy  must  be  ready  to  start  with  your 
son  the  instant  he  appears.' 

'It  is  strange,'  said  the  knight;  'for  forty  years  I  have 
dwelt  in  this  house,  man  and  boy,  and  the  point  only 
was  how  to  make  the  day  pass  over  our  heads;  for  if  I 
did  not  scheme  out  some  hunting-match  or  hawking, 
or  the  Uke,  I  might  have  sat  here  on  my  arm-chair,  as 
undisturbed  as  a  sleeping  dormouse,  from  one  end  of  the 
year  to  the  other;  and  now  I  am  more  like  a  hare  on  her 
form,  that  dare  not  sleep  unless  with  her  eyes  open,  and 
scuds  off  when  the  wind  rustles  among  the  fern.' 

'It  is  strange,'  said  Alice,  looking  at  Dr.  Rochecliffe, 
'that  the  Roundhead  steward  has  told  you  nothing  of 
this.  He  is  usually  communicative  enough  of  the  motions 
of  his  party;  and  I  saw  you  close  together  this  morning.' 

*I  must  be  closer  with  him  this  evening,'  said  the 
Doctor  gloomily;  'but  he  will  not  blab.' 

'I  wish  you  may  not  trust  him  too  much,'  said  Alice 
in  reply.  'To  me,  that  man's  face,  with  all  its  shrewd- 
ness, evinces  such  a  dark  expression,  that  methinks  I 
read  treason  in  his  very  eye,' 

'Be  assured,  that  matter  is  looked  to,'  answered  the 
Doctor,  in  the  same  ominous  tone  as  before.  No  one 
repHed,  and  there  was  a  chilling  and  anxious  feehng  of 
apprehension  which  seemed  to  sink  down  on  the  com- 
pany at  once,  like  those  sensations  which  make  such 
constitutions  as  are  particularly  subject  to  the  electrical 
influence  conscious  of  an  approaching  thunderstorm. 

The  disguised  monarch,   apprised   that  day  to  be 

245 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

prepared  on  short  notice  to  quit  his  temporary  asylum, 
felt  his  own  share  of  the  gloom  which  involved  the  Httle 
society.  But  he  was  the  first  also  to  shake  it  o£f,  as  what 
neither  suited  his  character  nor  his  situation.  Gaiety 
was  the  leading  distinction  of  the  former,  and  presence 
of  mind,  not  depression  of  spirits,  was  required  by  the 
latter. 

'  We  make  the  hour  heavier,'  he  said,  'by  being  melan- 
choly about  it.  Had  you  not  better  join  me.  Mistress 
Alice,  in  Patrick  Carey's  jovial  farewell  ?  Ah,  you  do  not 
know  Pat  Carey,  a  younger  brother  of  Lord  Falkland's? '  ^ 

*A  brother  of  the  immortal  Lord  Falkland's,  and 
write  songs!'  said  the  Doctor. 

*0h,  Doctor,  the  Muses  take  tithe  as  well  as  the 
church,'  said  Charles,  'and  have  their  share  in  every 
family  of  distinction.  You  do  not  know  the  words, 
Mistress  AHce,  but  you  can  aid  me  notwithstanding,  in 
the  burden  at  least  — 

Come,  now  that  we're  parting,  and  't  is  one  to  ten 
If  the  towers  of  sweet  Woodstock  I  e'er  see  agen, 
Let  us  e'en  have  a  frolic,  and  drink  like  tall  men, 
While  the  goblet  goes  merrily  round.'  ^ 

The  song  arose,  but  not  with  spirit.  It  was  one  of 
those  efforts  at  forced  mirth  by  which,  above  all  other 
modes  of  expressing  it,  the  absence  of  real  cheerfulness 
is  most  distinctly  intimated.  Charles  stopt  the  song, 
and  upbraided  the  choristers. 

'You  sing,  my  dear  Mistress  Alice,  as  if  you  were 
chanting  one  of  the  seven  penitential  psalms;  and  you, 
good  Doctor,  as  if  you  recited  the  funeral  service.' 

^  See  Note  6. 

*  The  original  song  of  Carey  bears  Wykeham,  instead  of  Woodstock, 
for  the  locality.  The  verses  are  full  of  the  bacchanalian  spirit  of  the  time. 

246 


WOODSTOCK 

The  Doctor  rose  hastily  from  the  table,  and  turned 
to  the  window;  for  the  expression  connected  singularly 
with  the  task  which  he  was  that  evening  to  discharge. 
Charles  looked  at  him  with  some  surprise;  for  the  peril 
in  which  he  Hved  made  him  watchful  of  the  slightest 
motions  of  those  around  him,  then  turned  to  Sir  Henry, 
and  said,  *  My  honoured  host,  can  you  tell  any  reason 
for  this  moody  fit,  which  has  so  strangely  crept  upon  us 
aU?' 

'Not  I,  my  dear  Louis,'  repUed  the  knight:  *I  have  no 
skill  in  these  nice  quillets  of  philosophy.  I  could  as  soon 
undertake  to  tell  you  the  reason  why  Bevis  turns  round 
three  times  before  he  Hes  down.  I  can  only  say  for  my- 
self, that,  if  age  and  sorrow  and  uncertainty  be  enough 
to  break  a  jovial  spirit,  or  at  least  to  bend  it  now  and 
then,  I  have  my  share  of  them  all;  so  that  I,  for  one, 
cannot  say  that  I  am  sad  merely  because  I  am  not  merry. 
I  have  but  too  good  cause  for  sadness.  I  would  I  saw 
my  son,  were  it  but  for  a  minute ! ' 

Fortune  seemed  for  once  disposed  to  gratify  the  old 
man;  for  Albert  Lee  entered  at  that  moment.  He  was 
dressed  in  a  riding-suit,  and  appeared  to  have  travelled 
hard.  He  cast  his  eye  hastily  around  as  he  entered.  It 
rested  for  a  second  on  that  of  the  disguised  prince,  and, 
satisfied  with  the  glance  which  he  received  in  lieu,  he 
hastened,  after  the  fashion  of  the  olden  day,  to  kneel 
down  to  his  father  and  request  his  blessing. 

*It  is  thine,  my  boy,'  said  the  old  man,  a  tear  spring- 
ing to  his  eyes  as  he  laid  his  hand  on  the  long  locks  which 
distinguished  the  young  Cavalier's  rank  and  principles, 
and  which,  usually  combed  and  curled  with  some  care, 
now  hung  wild  and  dishevelled  about  his  shoulders.  They 

247 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

remained  an  instant  in  this  posture,  when  the  old  man 
suddenly  started  from  it,  as  if  ashamed  of  the  emotion 
which  he  had  expressed  before  so  many  witnesses,  and 
passing  the  back  of  his  hand  hastily  across  his  eyes,  bid 
Albert  get  up  and  mind  his  supper,  *  since  I  dare  say  you 
have  ridden  fast  and  far  since  you  last  baited.  And  we  '11 
send  round  a  cup  to  his  health,  if  Dr.  RochecKffe  and 
the  good  company  pleases.  Joceline,  thou  knave,  skink 
about;  thou  look'st  as  if  thou  hadst  seen  a  ghost.' 

'  Jocehne,'  said  AUce,  *  is  sick  for  sympathy.  One  of  the 
stags  ran  at  Phoebe  Mayflower  to-day,  and  she  was  fain 
to  have  Joceline's  assistance  to  drive  the  creature  off; 
the  girl  has  been  in  fits  since  she  came  home.' 

'Silly  slut,'  said  the  old  knight.  'She  a  woodman's 
daughter!  But,  Joceline,  if  the  deer  gets  dangerous,  you 
must  send  a  broad  arrow  through  him.' 

*It  will  not  need,  Sir  Henry,'  said  Joceline,  speaking 
with  great  difiiculty  of  utterance;  *he  is  quiet  enough 
now,  he  will  not  offend  in  that  sort  again.' 

'See  it  be  so,'  replied  the  knight;  'remember  Mistress 
Alice  often  walks  in  the  chase.  And  now  fill  round,  and 
fill,  too,  a  cup  to  thyself  to  over-red  thy  fear,  as  mad  Will 
has  it.  Tush,  man,  Phoebe  will  do  well  enough:  she  only 
screamed  and  ran,  that  thou  mightst  have  the  pleasure 
to  help  her.  Mind  what  thou  dost,  and  do  not  go  spilling 
the  wine  after  that  fashion.  Come,  here  is  a  health  to 
our  wanderer,  who  has  come  to  us  again.' 

'None  will  pledge  it  more  willingly  than  I,'  said  the 
disguised  prince,  unconsciously  assuming  an  importance 
which  the  character  he  personated  scarce  warranted; 
but  Sir  Henry,  who  had  become  fond  of  the  supposed 
page,  with  all  his  peculiarities,  imposed  only  a  moderate 

248 


WOODSTOCK 

rebuke  upon  his  petulance.  'Thou  art  a  merry,  good- 
humoured  youth,  Louis,'  he  said;  'but  it  is  a  world  to 
see  how  the  forwardness  of  the  present  generation  hath 
gone  beyond  the  gravity  and  reverence  which  in  my 
youth  was  so  regularly  observed  towards  those  of  higher 
rank  and  station.  I  dared  no  more  have  given  my  own 
tongue  the  rein,  when  there  was  a  doctor  of  divinity  in 
company,  than  I  would  have  dared  to  have  spoken  in 
church  in  service- time.' 

'True,  sir,'  said  Albert,  hastily  interfering;  'but  Master 
Kerneguy  had  the  better  right  to  speak  at  present,  that 
I  have  been  absent  on  his  business  as  well  as  my  own, 
have  seen  several  of  his  friends,  and  bring  him  import- 
ant intelligence.' 

Charles  was  about  to  rise  and  beckon  Albert  aside, 
naturally  impatient  to  know  what  news  he  had  procured, 
or  what  scheme  of  safe  escape  was  nov/  decreed  for  him. 
But  Dr.  Rocheclifife  twitched  his  cloak,  as  a  hint  to  him 
to  sit  still,  and  not  show  any  extraordinary  motive  for 
anxiety,  since,  in  case  of  a  sudden  discovery  of  his  real 
quality,  the  violence  of  Sir  Henry  Lee's  feelings  might 
have  been  Hkely  to  attract  too  much  attention. 

Charles,  therefore,  only  replied,  as  to  the  knight's 
stricture,  that  he  had  a  particular  title  to  be  sudden  and 
unceremonious  in  expressing  his  thanks  to  Colonel  Lee, 
that  gratitude  was  apt  to  be  unmannerly;  finally,  that 
he  was  much  obliged  to  Sir  Henry  for  his  admonition, 
and  that,  quit  Woodstock  when  he  would,  'he  was  sure 
to  leave  it  a  better  man  than  he  came  there.' 

His  speech  was  of  course  ostensibly  directed  towards 
the  father;  but  a  glance  at  Alice  assured  her  that  she  had 
her  full  share  in  the  compliment. 

249 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

*I  fear,'  he  concluded,  addressing  Albert,  'that  you 
come  to  tell  us  our  stay  here  must  be  very  short.' 

*  A  few  hours  only,'  said  Albert,  *  just  enough  for  need- 
ful rest  for  ourselves  and  our  horses.  I  have  procured 
two  which  are  good  and  tried.  But  Dr.  Rochecliffe  broke 
faith  with  me.  I  expected  to  have  met  some  one  down 
at  Joceline's  hut,  where  I  left  the  horses;  and  finding  no 
person,  I  was  delayed  an  hour  in  littering  them  down 
myself,  that  they  might  be  ready  for  to-morrow's  work, 
for  we  must  be  off  before  day.' 

*I  —  I  —  intended  to  have  sent  Tomkins  ;  but  — 
but — '  hesitated  the  Doctor  —  'I  — ' 

'The  Roundheaded  rascal  was  drunk,  or  out  of  the 
way,  I  presume,'  said  Albert.  'I  am  glad  of  it,  you  may 
easily  trust  him  too  far.' 

'Hitherto  he  has  been  faithful,'  said  the  Doctor,  'and 
I  scarce  think  he  will  fail  me  now.  But  Joceline  will  go 
down  and  have  the  horses  in  readiness  in  the  morn- 
ing.' 

Joceline's  countenance  was  usually  that  of  alacrity 
itself  in  a  case  extraordinary.  Now,  however,  he  seemed 
to  hesitate. 

'You  will  go  with  me  a  little  way,  Doctor?'  he  said, 
as  he  edged  himself  closely  to  Rochecliffe. 

'How!  puppy,  fool,  and  blockhead,'  said  the  knight, 
'wouldst  thou  ask  Dr.  Rochecliffe  to  bear  thee  com- 
pany at  this  hour?  Out,  hound!  get  down  to  the  kennel 
yonder  instantly,  or  I  will  break  the  knave's  pate  of 
thee.' 

Joceline  looked  with  an  eye  of  agony  at  the  divine,  as 
if  entreating  him  to  interfere  in  his  behalf;  but  just  as  he 
was  about  to  speak,  a  most  melancholy  howUng  arose  at 

250 


WOODSTOCK 

the  halldoor,  and  a  dog  was  heard  scratching  for  admit- 
tance. 

'What  ails  Bevis  next? '  said  the  old  knight.  'I  think 
this  must  be  All  Fools  Day,  and  that  everything  around 
me  is  going  mad ! ' 

The  same  sound  startled  Albert  and  Charles  from  a 
private  conference  in  which  they  had  engaged,  and  Albert 
ran  to  the  hall-door  to  examine  personally  into  the  cause 
of  the  noise. 

*It  is  no  alarm,'  said  the  old  knight  to  Kerneguy,  'for 
in  such  cases  the  dog's  bark  is  short,  sharp,  and  furious. 
These  long  howls  are  said  to  be  ominous.  It  was  even 
so  that  Bexds's  grandsire  bayed  the  whole  livelong  night 
on  which  my  poor  father  died.  If  it  comes  now  as  a 
presage,  God  send  it  regard  the  old  and  useless,  not  the 
young,  and  those  who  may  yet  serve  king  and  coun- 
try!' 

The  dog  had  pushed  past  Colonel  Lee,  who  stood  a 
little  while  at  the  hall-door  to  Hsten  if  there  were  any- 
thing stirring  without,  while  Be\'is  advanced  into  the 
room  where  the  company  were  assembled,  bearing  some- 
thing in  his  mouth,  and  exhibiting,  in  an  unusual  degree, 
that  sense  of  duty  and  interest  which  a  dog  seems  to 
show  when  he  thinks  he  has  the  charge  of  something  im- 
portant. He  entered,  therefore,  drooping  his  long  taU, 
slouching  his  head  and  ears,  and  walking  with  the  stately 
yet  melancholy  dignity  of  a  war-horse  at  his  master's 
funeral.  In  this  manner  he  paced  through  the  room, 
went  straight  up  to  Jocehne,  who  had  been  regarding 
him  with  astonishment,  and  uttering  a  short  and  melan- 
choly howl,  laid  at  his  feet  the  object  which  he  bore  in  his 
mouth.  Joceline  stooped  and  took  from  the  floor  a  man's 

251 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

glove,  of  the  fashion  worn  by  the  troopers,  having  some- 
thing Hke  the  old-fashioned  gaimtlet  projections  of 
thick  leather  arising  from  the  wrist,  which  go  half-way 
up  to  the  elbow,  and  secure  the  arm  against  a  cut  with 
a  sword.  But  Joceline  had  no  sooner  looked  at  what  in 
itself  was  so  common  an  object  than  he  dropped  it  from 
his  hand,  staggered  backward,  uttered  a  groan,  and 
nearly  fell  to  the  ground. 

'Now,  the  coward's  curse  be  upon  thee  for  an  idiot!' 
said  the  knight,  who  had  picked  up  the  glove  and  was 
looking  at  it;  'thou  shouldst  be  sent  back  to  school, 
and  flogged  till  the  craven's  blood  was  switched  out  of 
thee.  What  dost  thou  look  at  but  a  glove,  thou  base  pol- 
troon, and  a  very  dirty  glove  too?  Stay,  here  is  writing. 
Joseph  Tomkins !  Why,  that  is  the  Roundheaded  fellow. 
I  wish  he  hath  not  come  to  some  mischief;  for  this  is  not 
dirt  on  the  cheveron,  but  blood.  Bevis  may  have  bit  the 
fellow,  and  yet  the  dog  seemed  to  love  him  well  too;  or 
the  stag  may  have  hurt  him.  Out,  Jocehne,  instantly, 
and  see  where  he  is;  wind  your  bugle.' 

'I  cannot  go,'  said  Joliffe,  'unless — '  and  again  he 
looked  piteously  at  Dr.  Rochecliffe,  who  saw  no  time 
was  to  be  lost  in  appeasing  the  ranger's  terrors,  as  his 
ministry  was  most  needful  in  the  present  circumstances. 
'Get  spade  and  mattock,'  he  whispered  to  him,  'and  a 
dark  lantern,  and  meet  me  in  the  wilderness.' 

Joceline  left  the  room ;  and  the  Doctor,  before  follow- 
ing him,  had  a  few  words  of  explanation  with  Colonel  Lee. 
His  own  spirit,  far  from  being  dismayed  on  the  occa- 
sion, rather  rose  higher,  like  one  whose  natural  element 
was  intrigue  and  danger.  'Here  hath  been  wild  work,' 
he  said,  'since  you  parted.     Tomkins  was  rude  to  the 

252 


WOODSTOCK 

wench  Phoebe,  Joceline  and  he  had  a  brawl  together, 
and  Tomkins  is  l>ing  dead  in  the  thicket  not  far  from 
Rosamond's  Well.  It  will  be  necessary  that  Jocehne  and 
I  go  directly  to  bury  the  body;  for,  besides  that  some  one 
might  stumble  upon  it  and  raise  an  alarm,  this  fellow 
Joceline  will  never  be  fit  for  any  active  purpose  till  it 
is  under  ground.  Though  as  stout  as  a  Hon,  the  under- 
keeper  has  his  own  weak  side,  and  is  more  afraid  of  a 
dead  body  than  a  living  one.  When  do  you  propose  to 
start  to-morrow? ' 

'By  daybreak,  or  earlier,'  said  Colonel  Lee;  'but  we 
will  meet  again.  A  vessel  is  provided,  and  I  have  relays 
in  more  places  than  one ;  we  go  off  from  the  coast  of  Sus- 
sex, and  I  am  to  get  a  letter  at ,  acquainting  me 

precisely  with  the  spot.' 

*  Wherefore  not  go  off  instantly? '  said  the  Doctor. 

'The  horses  would  fail  us,'  rephed  Albert:  'they  have 
been  hard  ridden  to-day.' 

'Adieu,'  said  Rochecliffe,  'I  must  to  my  task.  Do  you 
take  rest  and  repose  for  yours.  To  conceal  a  slaughtered 
body,  and  convey  on  the  same  night  a  king  from  danger 
and  captivity,  are  two  feats  which  have  fallen  to  few 
folks  save  myself;  but  let  me  not,  while  putting  on  my 
harness,  boast  myself  as  if  I  were  taking  it  off  after  a 
victory.'  So  saying,  he  left  the  apartment,  and,  muffling 
himself  in  his  cloak,  went  out  into  what  was  called  the 
wilderness. 

The  weather  was  a  raw  frost.  The  mist  lay  in  partial 
wreaths  upon  the  lower  grounds ;  but  the  night,  consider- 
ing that  the  heavenly  bodies  were  in  a  great  measure 
hidden  by  the  haze,  was  not  extremely  dark.  Dr.  Roche- 
cliffe could  not,  however,  distinguish  the  under-keeper, 

253 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

until  he  had  hemmed  once  or  twice,  when  Joceline  an- 
swered the  signal  by  showing  a  glimpse  of  light  from  the 
dark  lantern  which  he  carried.  Guided  by  this  intima- 
tion of  his  presence,  the  divine  found  him  leaning  against 
a  buttress  which  had  once  supported  a  terrace,  now 
ruinous.  He  had  a  pickaxe  and  shovel,  together  with  a 
deer's  hide  hanging  over  his  shoulder. 

'What  do  you  want  with  the  hide,  JoceHne,'  said  Dr. 
Rochecliffe, '  that  you  Imnber  it  about  with  you  on  such 
an  errand?' 

'Why,  look  you,  Doctor,'  he  answered,  'it  is  as  well  to 
tell  you  all  about  it.  The  man  and  I  —  he  there  —  you 
know  whom  I  mean  —  had  many  years  since  a  quarrel 
about  this  deer.  For,  though  we  were  great  friends,  and 
Philip  was  sometimes  allowed  by  my  master's  permis- 
sion to  help  me  in  mine  office,  yet  I  know,  for  all  that, 
Philip  Hazeldine  was  sometimes  a  trespasser.  The  deer- 
stealers  were  very  bold  at  that  time,  it  being  just  before 
the  breaking  out  of  the  war,  when  men  were  becoming 
unsettled.  And  so  it  chanced  that  one  day,  in  the  chase, 
I  found  two  fellows,  with  their  faces  blacked,  and  shirts 
over  their  clothes,  carrying  as  prime  a  buck  between  them 
as  any  was  in  the  park.  I  was  upon  them  in  the  instant; 
one  escaped,  but  I  got  hold  of  the  other  fellow,  and  who 
should  it  prove  to  be  but  trusty  Philip  Hazeldine!  Well, 
I  don't  know  whether  it  was  right  or  wrong,  but  he  was 
my  old  friend  and  pot-companion,  and  I  took  his  word 
for  amendment  in  the  future;  and  he  helped  me  to  hang 
up  the  deer  on  a  tree,  and  I  came  back  with  a  horse  to 
carry  him  to  the  lodge,  and  tell  the  knight  the  story,  all 
but  Phil's  name.  But  the  rogues  had  been  too  clever  for 
me;  for  they  had  flayed  and  dressed  the  deer,  and  quar- 

254 


WOODSTOCK 

tered  him,  and  carried  him  off,  and  left  the  hide  and 
horns,  with  a  chime,  saying 

The  haunch  to  thee, 

The  breast  to  me, 

The  hide  and  the  horns  for  the  keeper's  fee. 

And  this  I  knew  for  one  of  Phil's  mad  pranks,  that  he 
would  play  in  those  days  with  any  lad  in  the  country. 
But  I  was  so  nettled,  that  I  made  the  deer's  hide  be 
curried  and  dressed  by  a  tanner,  and  swore  that  it 
should  be  his  winding-sheet  or  mine;  and  though  I  had 
long  repented  my  rash  oath,  yet  now.  Doctor,  you  see 
what  it  has  come  to :  though  I  forgot  it,  the  Devil  did 
not.' 

*It  was  a  very  wrong  thing  to  make  a  vow  so  sinful,' 
said  Rochecliffe;  'but  it  would  have  been  greatly  worse 
had  you  endeavoured  to  keep  it.  Therefore,  I  bid  you 
cheer  up,'  said  the  good  divine;  'for  in  this  unhappy  case 
I  could  not  have  wished,  after  what  I  have  heard  from 
Phcebe  and  yourself,  that  you  should  have  kept  your 
hand  still,  though  I  may  regret  that  the  blow  has  proved 
fatal.  Nevertheless,  thou  hast  done  even  that  which  was 
done  by  the  great  and  inspired  legislator,  when  he  beheld 
an  Egyptian  tyrannising  over  a  Hebrew,  saving  that, 
in  the  case  present,  it  was  a  female,  when,  says  the 
Septuagint,  Percussum  Egyptium  ahscondit  sabulo,  the 
meaning  whereof  I  will  explain  to  you  another  time. 
Wherefore,  I  exhort  you  not  to  grieve  beyond  measure; 
for,  although  this  circumstance  is  unhappy  in  time  and 
place,  yet,  from  what  Phoebe  hath  informed  me  of  yon- 
der wretch's  opinions,  it  is  much  to  be  regretted  that  his 
brains  had  not  been  beaten  out  in  his  cradle,  rather  than 
that  he  had  grown  up  to  be  one  of  these  Grindlestonians, 

255 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

or  Muggletonians,  in  whom  is  the  perfection  of  every 
foul  and  blasphemous  heresy,  united  with  such  an  uni- 
versal practice  of  hypocritical  assentation  as  would  de- 
ceive their  master,  even  Satan  himself.' 

'Nevertheless,  sir,'  said  the  forester,  'I  hope  you  will 
bestow  some  of  the  service  of  the  church  on  this  poor 
man,  as  it  was  his  last  wish,  naming  you,  sir,  at  the  same 
time;  and  unless  this  were  done,  I  should  scarce  dare  to 
walk  out  in  the  dark  again,  for  my  whole  life.' 

'Thou  art  a  silly  fellow;  but  if,'  continued  the  Doctor, 
*he  named  me  as  he  departed,  and  desired  the  last  rites 
of  the  church,  there  was,  it  may  be,  a  turning  from  evil 
and  a  seeking  to  good  even  in  his  last  moments;  and  if 
Heaven  granted  him  grace  to  form  a  prayer  so  fitting, 
wherefore  should  man  refuse  it?  All  I  fear  is  the  brief- 
ness of  time.' 

*Nay,  your  reverence  may  cut  the  service  somewhat 
short,'  said  Joceline;  'assuredly  he  does  not  deserve  the 
whole  of  it ;  only  if  something  were  not  to  be  done,  I  be- 
lieve I  should  flee  the  country.  They  were  his  last  words; 
and  methinks  he  sent  Bevis  with  his  glove  to  put  me  in 
mind  of  them.' 

'  Out,  fool !  Do  you  think,'  said  the  Doctor,  *  dead  men 
send  gauntlets  to  the  Hving,  like  knights  in  a  romance; 
or,  if  so,  would  they  choose  dogs  to  carry  their  challenges? 
I  tell  thee,  fool,  the  cause  was  natural  enough.  Bevis, 
questing  about,  found  the  body,  and  brought  the  glove 
to  you  to  intimate  where  it  was  lying,  and  to  require  as- 
sistance; for  such  is  the  high  instinct  of  these  animals 
towards  one  in  peril.' 

'Nay,  if  you  think  so.  Doctor,'  said  Joceline;  'and, 
doubtless,  I  must  say,  Bevis  took  an  interest  in  the  man 

256 


WOODSTOCK 

—  if  indeed  it  was  not  something  worse  in  the  shape  of 
Bexas,  for  methought  his  eyes  looked  wild  and  fiery,  as 
if  he  would  have  spoken.' 

As  he  talked  thus,  Joceline  rather  hung  back,  and  in 
doing  so  displeased  the  Doctor,  who  exclaimed,  'Come 
along  thou  lazy  laggard.  Art  thou  a  soldier,  and  a  brave 
one,  and  so  much  afraid  of  a  dead  man?  Thou  hast 
killed  men  in  battle  and  in  chase,  I  warrant  thee.' 

*Ay,  but  their  backs  were  to  me,'  said  Joceline:  'I 
never  saw  one  of  them  cast  back  his  head  and  glare  at 
me  as  yonder  fellow  did,  his  eye  retaining  a  glance  of 
hatred,  mixed  with  terror  and  reproach,  till  it  became 
fixed  like  a  jelly.  And  were  you  not  with  me,  and  my 
master's  concerns,  and  something  else,  very  deeply  at 
stake,  I  promise  you  I  would  not  again  look  at  him  for 
all  Woodstock.' 

'You  must,  though,'  said  the  Doctor,  suddenly  paus- 
ing, 'for  here  is  the  place  where  he  lies.  Come  hither 
deep  into  the  copse;  take  care  of  stumbling.  Here  is  a 
place  just  fitting,  and  we  will  draw  the  briers  over  the 
grave  afterwards.' 

As  the  Doctor  thus  issued  his  directions,  he  assisted 
also  in  the  execution  of  them;  and  while  his  attendant 
laboured  to  dig  a  shallow  and  misshapen  grave,  a  task 
which  the  state  of  the  soil,  perplexed  with  roots  and  hard- 
ened by  the  influence  of  the  frost,  rendered  very  diffi- 
cult, the  divine  read  a  few  passages  out  of  the  funeral 
service,  partly  in  order  to  appease  the  superstitious  ter- 
rors of  Joceline,  and  partly  because  he  held  it  matter 
of  conscience  not  to  deny  the  church's  rites  to  one  who 
had  requested  their  aid  in  extremj'ty. 

38 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

Case  ye,  case  ye;  on  with  your  vizards. 


Eenry  IV,  Part  i. 


The  company  whom  we  had  left  in  Victor  Lee's  parlour 
were  about  to  separate  for  the  night,  and  had  risen  to 
take  a  formal  leave  of  each  other,  when  a  tap  was  heard 
at  the  hall-door.  Albert,  the  vidette  of  the  party,  hast- 
ened to  open  it,  enjoining,  as  he  left  the  room,  the  rest 
to  remain  quiet,  until  he  had  ascertained  the  cause  of  the 
knocking.  When  he  gained  the  portal,  he  called  to  know 
who  was  there,  and  what  they  wanted  at  so  late  an 
hour. 

'  It  is  only  me,'  answered  a  treble  voice. 

'And  what  is  your  name,  my  little  fellow?'  said  Albert. 

'Spitfire,  sir,'  replied  the  voice  without. 

'Spitfire?'  said  Albert. 

'Yes,  sir,'  replied  the  voice;  'all  the  world  calls  me  so, 
and  Colonel  Everard  himself.  But  my  name  is  Spittal 
for  all  that.' 

'Colonel  Everard!  arrive  you  from  him?'  demanded 
young  Lee. 

'No,  sir;  I  come,  sir,  from  Roger  Wildrake,  Esquire, 
of  Squattlesea  Mere,  if  it  like  you,'  said  the  boy;  'and  I 
have  brought  a  token  to  Mistress  Lee,  which  I  am  to 
give  into  her  own  hands,  if  you  would  but  open  the  door, 
sir,  and  let  me  in;  but  I  can  do  nothing  with  a  three- 
inch  board  between  us.' 

'It  is  some  freak  of  that  drunken  rakehell,'  said  Al- 

258 


WOODSTOCK 

bert,  in  a  low  voice,  to  his  sister,  who  had  crept  out  after 
him  on  tiptoe. 

'Yet,  let  us  not  be  hasty  in  concluding  so,'  said  the 
young  lady;  'at  this  moment  the  least  trifle  may  be  of 
consequence.  What  token  has  Master  Wildrake  sent  me, 
my  Httle  boy?' 

'Nay,  nothing  very  valuable  neither,'  replied  the  boy; 
'but  he  was  so  anxious  you  should  get  it,  that  he  put  me 
out  of  the  window  as  one  would  chuck  out  a  kitten,  that 
I  might  not  be  stopped  by  the  soldiers.' 

'  Hear  you? '  said  Alice  to  her  brother.  '  Undo  the  gate, 
for  God's  sake.' 

Her  brother,  to  whom  her  feehngs  of  suspicion  were 
now  sufficiently  communicated,  opened  the  gate  in  haste, 
and  admitted  the  boy,  whose  appearance,  not  much  dis- 
similar to  that  of  a  skinned  rabbit  in  a  livery,  or  a  mon- 
key at  a  fair,  would  at  another  time  have  furnished  them 
with  amusement.  The  urchin  messenger  entered  the 
hall,  making  several  odd  bows  and  conges,  and  deliv- 
ered the  woodcock's  feather^  with  much  ceremony  to  the 
young  lady,  assuring  her  it  was  the  prize  she  had  won 
upon  a  wager  about  hawking. 

'I  prithee,  my  httle  man,'  said  Albert,  'was  your  mas- 
ter drunk  or  sober  when  he  sent  thee  all  this  way  with  a 
feather  at  this  time  of  night? ' 

'With  reverence,  sir,'  said  the  boy,  'he  was  what  he 
calls  sober,  and  what  I  would  call  concerned  in  Uquor, 
for  any  other  person.' 

'  Curse  on  the  drunken  coxcomb ! '  said  Albert.  'There 
is  a  tester  for  thee,  boy,  and  tell  thy  master  to  break  his 
jests  on  suitable  persons  and  at  fitting  times.' 
^  See  Note  7. 
259 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

*Stay  yet  a  minute/  exclaimed  Alice;  'we  must  not 
go  too  fast,  this  craves  wary  walking.' 

*A  feather/  said  Albert  —  'aU  this  work  about  a 
feather!  Why,  Dr.  Rochecli£fe,  who  can  suck  intelli- 
gence out  of  every  trifle  as  a  magpie  would  suck  an  egg, 
could  make  nothing  of  this.' 

'Let  us  try  what  we  can  do  without  him  then,'  said 
Alice.  Then  addressing  herself  to  the  boy  —  *So  there 
are  strangers  at  your  master's? ' 

'At  Colonel  Everard's,  madam,  which  is  the  same 
thing,'  said  Spitfire. 

'And  what  manner  of  strangers,'  said  Alice;  'guests,  I 
suppose? ' 

'Ay,  mistress,'  said  the  boy  —  'a  sort  of  guests  that 
make  themselves  welcome  wherever  they  come,  if  they 
meet  not  a  welcome  from  their  landlord  —  soldiers, 
madam.' 

'The  men  that  have  been  long  lying  at  Woodstock?' 
said  Albert. 

'No,  sir,'  said  Spitfire,  'newcomers,  with  gallant  buff- 
coats  and  steel  breastplates;  and  their  commander  — 
your  honour  and  your  ladyship  never  saw  such  a  man! 
—  at  least  I  am  sure  Bill  Spitfire  never  did.' 

'Was  he  tall  or  short? '  said  Albert,  now  much  alarmed. 

'Neither  one  nor  other,'  said  the  boy:  'stout  made, 
with  slouching  shoulders,  a  nose  large,  and  a  face  one 
would  not  like  to  say  "No"  to.  He  had  several  ofiicers 
with  him.  I  saw  him  but  for  a  moment,  but  I  shall  never 
forget  him  while  I  Hve.' 

'You  are  right,'  said  Albert  Lee  to  his  sister,  pulling 
her  to  one  side  —  'quite  right:  the  Archfiend  himself  is 
upon  us!' 

260 


WOODSTOCK 

'And  the  feather,'  said  Alice,  whom  fear  had  rendered 
apprehensive  of  slight  tokens,  'means  flight,  and  a  wood- 
cock is  a  bird  of  passage.' 

'You  have  hit  it,'  said  her  brother;  'but  the  time  has 
taken  us  cruelly  short.  Give  the  boy  a  trifle  more  — 
nothing  that  can  excite  suspicion  —  and  dismiss  him.  I 
must  summon  Rochecliffe  and  Joceline.' 

He  went  accordingly,  but,  unable  to  find  those  he 
sought,  he  returned  with  hasty  steps  to  the  parlour, 
where,  in  his  character  of  Louis,  the  page  was  exerting 
himself  to  detain  the  old  knight,  who,  while  laughing  at 
the  tales  he  told  him,  was  anxious  to  go  to  see  what  was 
passing  in  the  hall. 

'What  is  the  matter,  Albert?'  said  the  old  man;  'who 
calls  at  the  lodge  at  so  undue  an  hour,  and  wherefore  is 
the  hall-door  opened  to  them?  I  will  not  have  my  rules, 
and  the  regulations  laid  down  for  keeping  this  house, 
broken  through  because  I  am  old  and  poor.  Why  an- 
swer you  not?  why  keep  a-chattering  with  Louis  Kerne- 
guy,  and  neither  of  you  all  the  while  minding  what  I 
say?  Daughter  Alice,  have  you  sense  and  civihty  enough 
to  tell  me  what  or  who  it  is  that  is  admitted  here  con- 
trary to  my  general  orders? ' 

'No  one,  sir,  'replied  Alice;  'a  boy  brought  a  message, 
which  I  fear  is  an  alarming  one.' 

'There  is  only  fear,  sir,'  said  Albert,  stepping  for- 
ward, 'that,  whereas  we  thought  to  have  stayed  with 
you  till  to-morrow,  we  must  now  take  farewell  of  you 
to-night.' 

'Not  so,  brother,'  said  Alice,  'you  must  stay  and  aid 
the  defence  here ;  if  you  and  Master  Kerneguy  are  both 
missed,  the  pursuit  will  be  instant,  and  probably  suc- 

261 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

cessful;  but  if  you  stay,  the  hiding-places  about  this 
house  will  take  some  time  to  search.  You  can  change 
coats  with  Kerneguy  too.' 

'Right,  noble  wench,'  said  Albert  —  'most  excellent. 
Yes  —  Louis,  I  remain  as  Kerneguy,  you  fly  as  young 
Master  Lee.' 

'  I  cannot  see  the  justice  of  that,'  said  Charles. 

'Nor  I  neither,'  said  the  knight,  interfering.  'Men 
come  and  go,  lay  schemes,  and  alter  them,  in  my  house, 
without  deigning  to  consult  me!  And  who  is  Master 
Kerneguy,  or  what  is  he  to  me,  that  my  son  must  stay 
and  take  the  chance  of  mischief,  and  this  your  Scotch 
page  is  to  escape  in  his  dress?  I  will  have  no  such  con- 
trivance carried  into  effect,  though  it  were  the  finest 
cobweb  that  was  ever  woven  in  Dr.  Rochecliffe's  brains. 
I  wish  you  no  ill,  Louis,  thou  art  a  lively  boy;  but  I  have 
been  somewhat  too  Hghtly  treated  in  this,  man.' 

'I  am  fully  of  your  opinion.  Sir  Henry,'  replied  the 
person  whom  he  addressed.  'You  have  been,  indeed, 
repaid  for  your  hospitahty  by  want  of  that  confidence 
which  could  never  have  been  so  justly  reposed.  But 
the  moment  is  come  when  I  must  say,  in  a  word,  I  am 
that  unfortunate  Charles  Stuart  whose  lot  it  has  been  to 
become  the  cause  of  ruin  to  his  best  friends,  and  whose 
present  residence  in  your  family  threatens  to  bring 
destruction  to  you  and  all  around  you.' 

'Master  Louis  Kerneguy,'  said  the  knight,  very  an- 
grily, '  I  will  teach  you  to  choose  the  subjects  of  your 
mirth  better  when  you  address  them  to  me;  and,  more- 
over, very  little  provocation  would  make  me  desire  to 
have  an  ounce  or  two  of  that  malapert  blood  from  you.' 

'  Be  still,  sir,  for  God's  sake ! '  said  Albert  to  his  father. 
262 


WOODSTOCK 

*This  is  indeed  the  King;  and  such  is  the  danger  of  his 
person,  that  every  moment  we  waste  may  bring  round  a 
fatal  catastrophe.' 

'  Good  God ! '  said  the  father,  clasping  his  hands  to- 
gether, and  about  to  drop  on  his  knees,  'has  my  earnest 
wish  been  accomplished,  and  is  it  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
make  me  pray  it  had  never  taken  place?' 

He  then  attempted  to  bend  his  knee  to  the  King,  kissed 
his  hand,  while  large  tears  trickled  from  his  eyes,  then 
said,  'Pardon,  my  Lord  —  your  Majesty,  I  mean  — 
permit  me  to  sit  in  your  presence  but  one  instant  till  my 
blood  beats  more  freely,  and  then  — ' 

Charles  raised  his  ancient  and  faithful  subject  from 
the  ground;  and  even  in  that  moment  of  fear,  and  anx- 
iety, and  danger  insisted  on  leading  him  to  his  seat, 
upon  which  he  sunk  in  apparent  exhaustion,  his  head 
drooping  upon  his  long  white  beard,  and  big  unconscious 
tears  mingling  with  its  silver  hairs.  Albert  and  Alice 
remained  with  the  King,  arguing  and  urging  his  instant 
departure. 

'The  horses  are  at  the  under-keeper's  hut,'  said  Al- 
bert, 'and  the  relays  only  eighteen  or  twenty  miles  off. 
If  the  horses  can  but  carry  you  so  far  — * 

'Will  you  not  rather,'  interrupted  Alice,  'trust  to  the 
concealments  of  this  place,  so  numerous  and  so  well 
tried  —  RochecUffe's  apartments,  and  the  yet  farther 
places  of  secrecy? ' 

'  Alas ! '  said  Albert, '  I  know  them  only  by  name.  My 
father  was  sworn  to  confide  them  to  but  one  man,  and 
he  had  chosen  Rochecliffe.' 

'I  prefer  taking  the  field  to  any  hiding-hole  in  Eng- 
land,' said  the  King.  '  Could  I  but  find  my  way  to  this 

263 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

hut  where  the  horses  are,  I  would  try  what  arguments 
whip  and  spur  could  use  to  get  them  to  the  rendezvous, 
where  I  am  to  meet  Sir  Thomas  Acland  and  fresh  cattle. 
Come  with  me,  Colonel  Lee,  and  let  us  run  for  it.  The 
Roundheads  have  beat  us  in  battle;  but  if  it  come  to  a 
walk  or  a  race,  I  think  I  can  show  which  has  the  best 
mettle.' 

'But  then,'  said  Albert,  'we  lose  all  the  time  which 
may  otherwise  be  gained  by  the  defence  of  this  house  — 
leaving  none  here  but  my  poor  father,  incapable  from 
his  state  of  doing  anything;  and  you  will  be  instantly 
pursued  by  fresh  horses,  while  ours  are  unfit  for  the 
road.  Oh,  where  is  the  villain  Joceline? ' 

'What  can  have  become  of  Dr.  Rochecliffe? '  said 
Alice  —  '  he  that  is  so  ready  with  advice.  Where  can 
they  be  gone?  Oh,  if  my  father  could  but  rouse  himself!' 

'Your  father  is  roused,'  said  Sir  Henry,  rising  and 
stepping  up  to  them  with  all  the  energy  of  full  manhood 
in  his  countenance  and  motions.  'I  did  but  gather  my 
thoughts,  for  when  did  they  fail  a  Lee  when  his  king 
needed  counsel  or  aid?'  He  then  began  to  speak,  with 
the  ready  and  distinct  utterance  of  a  general  at  the  head 
of  an  army,  ordering  every  motion  for  attack  and  de- 
fence, unmoved  himself,  and  his  own  energy  compell- 
ing obedience,  and  that  cheerful  obedience,  from  all  who 
heard  him.  '  Daughter,'  he  said, '  beat  up  Dame  Jellicot. 
Let  Phcebe  rise,  if  she  were  dying,  and  secure  doors  and 
windows.' 

'That  hath  been  done  regularly  since  —  we  have  been 
thus  far  honoured,'  saidhis  daughter,  lookingat  the  King; 
*yet,  let  them  go  through  the  chambers  once  more.' 
And  Alice  retired  to  give  orders,  and  presently  returned. 

264 


WOODSTOCK 

The  old  knight  proceeded,  in  the  same  decided  tone  of 
promptitude  and  despatch  —  *  Which  is  your  first  stage? ' 

*  Gray's  —  Rothebury,  by  Henley,  where  Sir  Thomas 
Acland  and  young  KnoUes  are  to  have  horses  in  readi- 
ness,' said  Albert;  'but  how  to  get  there  with  our  weary 
cattle?' 

'Trust  me  for  that,'  said  the  knight;  and  proceeding 
with  the  same  tone  of  authority  —  'Your  Majesty  must 
instantly  to  Joceline's  lodge,'  he  said,  'there  are  your 
horses  and  your  means  of  flight.  The  secret  places  of 
this  house,  well  managed,  will  keep  the  rebel  dogs  in 
play  two  or  three  hours  good.  RochecHffe  is,  I  fear,  kid- 
napped, and  his  Independent  hath  betrayed  him.  Would 
I  had  judged  the  villain  better!  I  would  have  struck 
him  through  at  one  of  our  trials  of  fence,  with  an  un- 
bated  weapon,  as  Will  says.  But  for  your  guide  when 
on  horseback,  half  a  bowshot  from  Joceline's  hut  is  that 
of  old  Martin  the  verdurer;  he  is  a  score  of  years  older 
than  I,  but  as  fresh  as  an  old  oak;  beat  up  his  quarters, 
and  let  him  ride  with  you  for  death  and  life.  He  will 
guide  you  to  your  relay,  for  no  fox  that  ever  earthed  in 
the  chase  knows  the  country  so  well  for  seven  leagues 
around.' 

*  Excellent,  my  dearest  father  —  excellent,'  said  Al- 
bert; 'I  had  forgotten  Martin  the  verdurer.' 

'Young  men  forget  all,'  answered  the  knight.  'Alas, 
that  the  limbs  should  fail,  when  the  head  which  can  best 
direct  them  —  is  come  perhaps  to  its  wisest ! ' 

'But  the  tired  horses,'  said  the  King;  'could  we  not 
get  fresh  cattle? ' 

'  Impossible  at  this  time  of  night,'  answered  Sir  Henry ; 
'but  tired  horses  may  do  much  with  care  and  looking  to.' 

265 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

He  went  hastily  to  the  cabinet  which  stood  in  one  of  the 
oriel  windows,  and  searched  for  something  in  the  draw- 
ers, pulling  out  one  after  another. 

*  We  lose  time,  father,'  said  Albert,  afraid  that  the  in- 
telligence and  energy  which  the  old  man  displayed  had 
been  but  a  temporary  flash  of  the  lamp,  which  was  about 
to  relapse  into  evening  twilight. 

*  Go  to,  sir  boy,'  said  his  father,  sharply;  'is  it  for  thee 
to  tax  me  in  this  presence?  Know,  that  were  the  whole 
Roundheads  that  are  out  of  Hell  in  present  assemblage 
round  Woodstock,  I  could  send  away  the  royal  hope  of 
England  by  a  way  that  the  wisest  of  them  could  never 
guess.  Alice,  my  love,  ask  no  questions,  but  speed  to 
the  kitchen,  and  fetch  a  slice  or  two  of  beef,  or  better  of 
venison;  cut  them  long,  and  thin,  d'ye  mark  me — ' 

'This  is  wandering  of  the  mind,'  said  Albert  apart  to 
the  King.  'We  do  him  wrong,  and  your  Majesty  harm, 
to  listen  to  him.' 

'I  think  otherwise,'  said  Alice,  'and  I  know  my  father 
better  than  you.'  So  saying,  she  left  the  room,  to  fulfil 
her  father's  orders. 

'I  think  so,  too,'  said  Charles.  'In  Scotland,  the 
Presbyterian  ministers,  when  thundering  in  their  pul- 
pits on  my  own  sins  and  those  of  my  house,  took  the 
freedom  to  call  me  to  my  face  Jeroboam,  or  Rehoboam, 
or  some  such  name,  for  following  the  advice  of  young 
counsellors;  odds-fish,  I  will  take  that  of  the  greybeard 
for  once,  for  never  saw  I  more  sharpness  and  decision 
than  in  the  countenance  of  that  noble  old  man.' 

By  this  time  Sir  Henry  had  found  what  he  was  seek- 
ing. 'In  this  tin  box,'  he  said,  'are  six  balls  prepared  of 
the  most  cordial  spices,  mixed  with  medicaments  of  the 

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WOODSTOCK 

choicest  and  most  invigorating  quality.  Given  from 
hour  to  hour,  wrapt  in  a  covering  of  good  beef  or  veni- 
son, a  horse  of  spirit  will  not  flag  for  five  hours,  at  the 
speed  of  fifteen  miles  an  hour;  and,  please  God,  the 
fourth  of  the  time  places  your  Majesty  in  safety;  what 
remains  may  be  useful  on  some  future  occasion.  ^Mar- 
tin  knows  how  to  administer  them ;  and  Albert's  weary 
cattle  shall  be  ready,  if  walked  gently  for  ten  minutes, 
in  running  to  devour  the  way,  as  old  Will  says.  Nay, 
waste  not  time  in  speech ;  your  Majesty  does  me  but  too 
much  honour  in  using  what  is  your  own.  Now,  see  if  the 
coast  is  clear,  Albert,  and  let  his  Majesty  set  off  in- 
stantly. We  will  play  our  parts  but  ill,  if  any  take  the 
chase  after  him  for  these  two  hours  that  are  between 
night  and  day.  Change  dresses,  as  you  proposed,  in 
yonder  sleeping-apartment;  something  may  be  made  of 
that,  too.' 

'But,  good  Sir  Henry,'  said  the  King,  'your  zeal  over- 
looks a  principal  point.  I  have,  indeed,  come  from  the 
under-keeper's  hut  you  mention  to  this  place,  but  it  was 
by  daylight,  and  under  guidance:  I  shall  never  find  my 
way  thither  in  utter  darkness  and  without  a  guide ;  I  fear 
you  must  let  the  colonel  go  with  me.  And  I  entreat  and 
command,  you  will  put  yourself  to  no  trouble  or  risk  to 
defend  the  house ;  only  make  what  delay  you  can  in  show- 
ing its  secret  recesses.' 

'Rely  on  me,  my  royal  and  liege  sovereign,'  said  Sir 
Henry;  'but  Albert  must  remain  here,  and  Alice  shall 
guide  your  Majesty  to  Joceline's  hut  in  his  stead.' 

'Alice!'  said  Charles,  stepping  back  in  surprise;  'why, 
it  is  dark  night  —  and  —  and  — '  he  glanced  his  eye 
towards  Alice,  who  had  by  this  time  returned  to  the 

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WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

apartment,  and  saw  doubt  and  apprehension  in  her  look 
—  an  intimation  that  the  reserve  under  which  he  had 
placed  his  disposition  for  gallantry,  since  the  morning 
of  the  proposed  duel,  had  not  altogether  effaced  the 
recollection  of  his  previous  conduct.  He  hastened  to 
put  a  strong  negative  upon  a  proposal  which  appeared 
so  much  to  embarrass  her.  'It  is  impossible  for  me,  in- 
deed. Sir  Henry,  to  use  Alice's  services:  I  must  walk  as  if 
bloodhounds  were  at  my  heels.' 

'Alice  shall  trip  it,'  said  the  knight,  'with  any  wench 
in  Oxfordshire;  and  what  would  your  Majesty's  best 
speed  avail,  if  you  knew  not  the  way  to  go?' 

'Nay  —  nay.  Sir  Henry,'  continued  the  King,  'the 
night  is  too  dark  —  we  stay  too  long  —  I  will  find  it 
myself.' 

'  Lose  no  time  in  exchanging  your  dress  with  Albert,' 
said  Sir  Henry;  'leave  me  to  take  care  of  the  rest.' 

Charles,  still  inclined  to  expostulate,  withdrew,  how- 
ever, into  the  apartment  where  young  Lee  and  he  were 
to  exchange  clothes ;  while  Sir  Henry  said  to  his  daugh- 
ter, '  Get  thee  a  cloak,  wench,  and  put  on  thy  thick- 
est shoes.  Thou  mightst  have  ridden  Pixie,  but  he  is 
something  spirited,  and  thou  art  a  timid  horsewoman, 
and  ever  wert  so  —  the  only  weakness  I  have  known 
of  thee.' 

'But,  my  father,'  said  Alice,  fixing  her  eyes  very 
earnestly  on  Sir  Henry's  face,  'must  I  really  go  alone 
with  the  King  ?  Might  not  Phoebe  or  Dame  Jellicot  go 
with  us? ' 

'No  —  no  —  no,'  answered  Sir  Henry.  'Phoebe,  the 
silly  slut,  has,  as  you  well  know,  been  in  fits  to-night, 
and,  I  take  it,  such  a  walk  as  you  must  take  is  no  charm 

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WOODSTOCK 

for  hysterics.  Dame  Jellicot  hobbles  as  slow  as  a  broken- 
winded  mare;  besides  her  deafness,  were  there  occasion 
to  speak  to  her.  No  —  no,  you  shall  go  alone,  and  en- 
title yourself  to  have  it  written  on  your  tomb,  "Here  lies 
she  who  saved  the  King!"  And,  hark  you,  do  not  think 
of  returning  to-night,  but  stay  at  the  verdurer's  with  his 
niece.  The  park  and  chase  will  shortly  be  filled  with 
our  enemies,  and  whatever  chances  here  you  will  learn 
early  enough  in  the  morning.' 

'And  what  is  it  I  may  then  learn?'  said  Alice.  'Alas, 
who  can  tell?  O,  dearest  father,  let  me  stay  and  share 
your  fate !  I  will  pull  off  the  timorous  woman,  and  fight 
for  the  King,  if  it  be  necessary.  But  —  I  cannot  think 
of  becoming  his  only  attendant  in  the  dark  night,  and 
through  a  road  so  lonely.' 

'How!'  said  the  knight,  raising  his  voice;  'do  you 
bring  ceremonies  and  silly  scruples  forward,  when  the 
King's  safety,  nay,  his  life,  is  at  stake?  By  this  mark  of 
loyalty,'  stroking  his  grey  beard  as  he  spoke,  'could  I 
think  thou  wert  other  than  becomes  a  daughter  of  the 
house  of  Lee,  I  would  — ' 

At  this  moment  the  King  and  Albert  interrupted  him 
by  entering  the  apartment,  having  exchanged  dresses, 
and,  from  their  stature,  bearing  some  resemblance  to 
each  other,  though  Charles  was  evidently  a  plain  and  Lee 
a  handsome  young  man.  Their  complexions  were  differ- 
ent; but  the  difference  could  not  be  immediately  noticed, 
Albert  having  adopted  a  black  peruke  and  darkened 
his  eyebrows. 

Albert  Lee  walked  out  to  the  front  of  the  mansion,  to 
give  one  turn  around  the  lodge,  in  order  to  discover  in 
what  direction  any  enemies  might  be  approaching,  that 

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WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

they  might  judge  of  the  road  which  it  was  safest  for  the 
royal  fugitive  to  adopt.  Meanwhile  the  King,  who  was 
first  in  entering  the  apartment,  had  heard  a  part  of  the 
angry  answer  which  the  old  knight  made  to  his  daugh- 
ter, and  was  at  no  loss  to  guess  the  subject  of  his  resent- 
ment. He  walked  up  to  him  with  the  dignity  which  he 
perfectly  knew  to  assume  when  he  chose  it. 

'Sir  Henry,'  he  said,  'it  is  our  pleasure,  nay,  our  com- 
mand, that  you  forbear  all  exertion  of  paternal  authority 
in  this  matter.  Mistress  Alice,  I  am  sure,  must  have  good 
and  strong  reasons  for  what  she  wishes;  and  I  should 
never  pardon  myself  were  she  placed  in  an  unpleasant 
situation  on  my  account.  I  am  too  well  acquainted  with 
woods  and  wildernesses  to  fear  losing  my  way  among  my 
native  oaks  of  Woodstock.' 

'Your  Majesty  shall  not  incur  the  danger,'  said  Alice, 
her  temporary  hesitation  entirely  removed  by  the  calm, 
clear,  and  candid  manner  in  which  Charles  uttered  these 
last  words.  'You  shall  run  no  risk  that  I  can  prevent; 
and  the  unhappy  chances  of  the  times  in  which  I  have 
lived  have  from  experience  made  the  forest  as  well  known 
to  me  by  night  as  by  day.  So,  if  you  scorn  not  my  com- 
pany, let  us  away  instantly.' 

'  If  your  company  is  given  with  good-will,  I  accept  it 
with  gratitude,'  replied  the  monarch. 

'Willingly,'  she  said  —  'most  willingly.  Let  me  be 
one  of  the  first  to  show  that  zeal  and  that  confidence 
which  I  trust  all  England  will  one  day  emulously  display 
in  behalf  of  your  Majesty.' 

She  uttered  these  words  with  an  alacrity  of  spirit, 
and  made  the  trifling  change  of  habit  with  a  speed  and 
dexterity,  which  showed  that  all  her  fears  were  gone, 

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WOODSTOCK 

and  that  her  heart  was  entirely  in  the  mission  on  which 
her  father  had  despatched  her. 

*A11  is  safe  around,'  said  Albert  Lee,  showing  himself: 
*you  may  take  which  passage  you  will  —  the  most  priv- 
ate is  the  best.' 

Charles  went  gracefully  up  to  Sir  Henry  Lee  ere  his 
departure,  and  took  him  by  the  hand.  *  I  am  too  proud 
to  make  professions,'  he  said,  'which  I  may  be  too  poor 
ever  to  realise.  But  while  Charles  Stuart  Hves,  he  Uves 
the  obliged  and  indebted  debtor  of  Sir  Henry  Lee.' 

*  Say  not  so,  please  your  Majesty  —  say  not  so,' 
exclaimed  the  old  man,  struggling  with  the  hysterical 
sobs  which  rose  to  his  throat.  'He  who  might  claim  all 
cannot  become  indebted  by  accepting  some  small  part.' 

'Farewell,  good  friend  —  farewell!'  said  the  King; 
'think  of  me  as  a  son,  a  brother  to  Albert  and  to  Alice, 
who  are,  I  see,  already  impatient.  Give  me  a  father's 
blessing,  and  let  me  be  gone.' 

'The  God  through  whom  kings  reign  bless  your  Ma- 
jesty,' said  Sir  Henry,  kneeling  and  turning  his  reverend 
face  and  clasped  hands  up  to  Heaven  —  '  the  Lord  of 
Hosts  bless  you,  and  save  your  Majesty  from  your  pre- 
sent dangers,  and  bring  you  in  His  own  good  time  to  the 
safe  possession  of  the  crown  that  is  your  due ! ' 

Charles  received  his  blessing  like  that  of  a  father,  and 
Alice  and  he  departed  on  their  journey. 

As  they  left  the  apartment,  the  old  knight  let  his  hands 
sink  gently  as  he  concluded  this  fervent  ejaculation,  his 
head  sinking  at  the  same  time.  His  son  dared  not  dis- 
turb his  meditation,  yet  feared  the  strength  of  his  feel- 
ings might  overcome  that  of  his  constitution,  and  that 
he  might  fall  into  a  swoon.   At  length,  he  ventured  to 

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WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

approach  and  gradually  touch  him.  The  old  knight 
started  to  his  feet,  and  was  at  once  the  same  alert,  active- 
minded,  forecasting  director  which  he  had  shown  him- 
self a  little  before. 

'You  are  right,  boy/  he  said,  'we  must  be  up  and  do- 
ing. They  lie,  the  Roundheaded  traitors,  that  call  him 
dissolute  and  worthless!  He  hath  feelings  worthy  the 
son  of  the  blessed  Martyr.  You  saw,  even  in  the  extrem- 
ity of  danger,  he  would  have  perilled  his  safety  rather 
than  take  Alice's  guidance,  when  the  silly  wench  seemed 
in  doubt  about  going.  Profligacy  is  intensely  selfish,  and 
thinks  not  of  the  feelings  of  others.  But  hast  thou  drawn 
bolt  and  bar  after  them?  I  vow  I  scarce  saw  when  they 
left  the  hall.' 

'I  let  them  out  at  the  Httle  postern,'  said  the  colonel; 
*and  when  I  returned,  I  was  afraid  I  had  found  you  ill.' 

*  Joy  —  joy  —  only  joy,  Albert.  I  cannot  allow  a 
thought  of  doubt  to  cross  my  breast.  God  will  not  desert 
the  descendant  of  an  hundred  kings:  the  rightful  heir  will 
not  be  given  up  to  the  ruffians.  There  was  a  tear  in  his 
eye  as  he  took  leave  of  me,  I  am  sure  of  it.  Wouldst  not 
die  for  him,  boy?' 

'If  I  lay  my  life  down  for  him  to-night,'  said  Albert, 
'I  would  only  regret  it  because  I  should  not  hear  of  his 
escape  to-morrow.' 

'Well,  let  us  to  this  gear,'  said  the  knight;  'think'st 
thou  that  thou  know'st  enough  of  his  manner,  clad  as 
thou  art  in  his  dress,  to  induce  the  women  to  believe  thee 
to  be  the  page  Kemeguy? ' 

'Umph,'  replied  Albert,  'it  is  not  easy  to  bear  out  a 
personification  of  the  King,  when  women  are  in  the  case. 
But  there  is  only  a  very  little  light  below,  and  I  can  try.' 

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WOODSTOCK 

'Do  so  instantly,'  said  his  father;  'the  knaves  will  be 
here  presently,' 

Albert  accordingly  left  the  apartment,  while  the 
knight  continued  — '  If  the  women  be  actually  persuaded 
that  Kemeguy  be  still  here,  it  will  add  strength  to  my 
plot :  the  beagles  will  open  on  a  false  scent,  and  the  royal 
stag  be  safe  in  cover  ere  they  again  regain  the  slot  of 
him.  Then  to  draw  them  on  from  hiding-place  to  hiding- 
place!  Why,  the  east  will  be  grey  before  they  have 
sought  the  half  of  them.  Yes,  I  will  play  at  bob-cherry 
with  them,  hold  the  bait  to  their  nose  which  they  are 
never  to  gorge  upon.  I  will  drag  a  trail  for  them  which 
will  take  them  some  time  to  puzzle  out.  But  at  what 
cost  do  I  do  this? '  continued  the  old  knight,  interrupt- 
ing his  own  joyous  soliloquy.  '  Oh,  Absalom  —  Absalom, 
my  son — my  son!  But  let  him  go;  he  can  but  die  as  his 
fathers  have  died,  and  in  the  cause  for  which  they  Hved. 
But  he  comes.  Hush!  Albert,  hast  thou  succeeded?  hast 
thou  taken  royalty  upon  thee  so  as  to  pass  current? ' 

*I  have,  sir,'  replied  Albert;  'the  women  will  swear 
that  Louis  Kerneguy  was  in  the  house  this  very  last 
minute.' 

'Right,  for  they  are  good  and  faithful  creatures,'  said 
the  knight, '  and  would  swear  what  was  for  his  Majesty's 
safety  at  any  rate;  yet  they  will  do  it  with  more  nature 
and  effect,  if  they  believe  they  are  swearing  truth.  How 
didst  thou  impress  the  deceit  upon  them?' 

'By  a  trifling  adoption  of  the  royal  manner,  sir,  not 
worth  mentioning.' 

'Out,  rogue!'  replied  the  knight.  'I  fear  the  King's 
character  will  suffer  under  your  mummery.' 

'Umph,'  said  Albert,  muttering  what  he  dared  not 
88  273 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

utter  aloud,  *were  I  to  follow  the  example  close  up,  I 
know  whose  character  would  be  in  the  greatest  danger.' 

'Well,  now  we  must  adjust  the  defence  of  the  out- 
works, the  signals,  etc.,  betwixt  us  both,  and  the  best 
way  to  bafHe  the  enemy  for  the  longest  time  possible.' 
He  then  again  had  recourse  to  the  secret  drawers  of  his 
cabinet,  and  pulled  out  a  piece  of  parchment,  on  which 
was  a  plan.  'This,'  said  he,  'is  a  scheme  of  the  citadel, 
as  I  call  it,  which  may  hold  out  long  enough  after  you 
have  been  forced  to  evacuate  the  places  of  retreat  you 
are  already  acquainted  with.  The  ranger  was  always 
sworn  to  keep  this  plan  secret,  save  from  one  person 
only,  in  case  of  sudden  death.  Let  us  sit  down  and  study 
it  together.' 

They  accordingly  adjusted  their  measures  in  a  man- 
ner which  will  better  show  itself  from  what  afterwards 
took  place  than  were  we  to  state  the  various  schemes 
which  they  proposed,  and  provisions  made  against 
events  that  did  not  arrive. 

At  length  young  Lee,  armed  and  provided  with  some 
food  and  liquor,  took  leave  of  his  father,  and  went  and 
shut  himself  up  in  Victor  Lee's  apartment,  from  which 
was  an  opening  to  the  labyrinth  of  private  apartments, 
or  hiding-places,  that  had  served  the  associates  so  well  in 
the  fantastic  tricks  which  they  had  played  off  at  the 
expense  of  the  Commissioners  of  the  Commonwealth. 

*I  trust,'  said  Sir  Henry,  sitting  down  by  his  desk, 
after  having  taken  a  tender  farewell  of  his  son,  'that 
RocheclifEe  has  not  blabbed  out  the  secret  of  the  plot  to 
yonder  fellow  Tomkins,  who  was  not  unlikely  to  prate  of 
it  out  of  school.  But  here  am  I  seated,  perhaps  for  the 
last  time,  with  my  Bible  on  the  one  hand  and  old  Will  on 

274 


WOODSTOCK 

the  other,  prepared,  thank  God,  to  die  as  I  have  lived. 
I  marvel  they  come  not  yet,'  he  said,  after  waiting  for 
some  time:  'I  always  thought  the  Devil  had  a  smarter 
spur  to  give  his  agents,  when  they  were  upon  his  own 
special  service.' 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

But  see,  his  face  is  black  and  full  of  blood, 

His  eyeballs  further  out  than  when  he  lived, 

Staring  full  ghastly  like  a  strangled  man; 

His  hair  uprear'd,  his  nostrils  stretch 'd  with  struggling; 

His  hands  abroad  display'd,  as  one  that  grasp'd 

And  tugg'd  for  life,  and  was  by  strength  subdued. 

Eenry  VI,  Part  II. 

Had  those  whose  unpleasant  visit  Sir  Henry  expected 
come  straight  to  the  lodge,  instead  of  staying  for  three 
hours  at  Woodstock,  they  would  have  secured  their 
prey.  But  the  Familist,  partly  to  prevent  the  King's  es- 
cape, partly  to  render  himself  of  more  importance  in  the 
affair,  had  represented  the  party  at  the  lodge  as  being 
constantly  on  the  alert,  and  had  therefore  inculcated 
upon  Cromwell  the  necessity  of  his  remaining  quiet  until 
he  (Tomkins)  should  appear  to  give  him  notice  that 
the  household  were  retired  to  rest.  On  this  condition  he 
undertook,  not  only  to  discover  the  apartment  in  which 
the  unfortunate  Charles  slept,  but,  if  possible,  to  find 
some  mode  of  fastening  the  door  on  the  outside,  so  as 
to  render  flight  impossible.  He  had  also  promised  to  se- 
cure the  key  of  a  postern,  by  which  the  soldiers  might 
be  admitted  into  the  house  without  exciting  alarm.  Nay, 
the  matter  might,  by  means  of  his  local  knowledge,  be 
managed,  as  he  represented  it,  with  such  security,  that 
he  would  undertake  to  place  his  Excellency,  or  whomso- 
ever he  might  appoint  for  the  service,  by  the  side  of 
Charles  Stuart's  bed,  ere  he  had  slept  off  the  last  night's 
claret.  Above  all,  he  had  stated  that,  from  the  style  of 

276 


WOODSTOCK 

the  old  house,  there  were  many  passages  and  posterns 
which  must  be  carefully  guarded,  before  the  least  alarm 
was  caught  by  those  within,  otherwise  the  success  of  the 
whole  enterprise  might  be  endangered.  He  had  there- 
fore besought  Cromwell  to  wait  for  him  at  the  village,  if 
he  found  him  not  there  on  his  arrival;  and  assured  him 
that  the  marching  and  countermarching  of  soldiers  was 
at  present  so  common,  that,  even  if  any  news  were  car- 
ried to  the  lodge  that  fresh  troops  had  arrived  in  the 
borough,  so  ordinary  a  circumstance  would  not  give 
them  the  least  alarm.  He  recommended  that  the  soldiers 
chosen  for  this  service  should  be  such  as  could  be  de- 
pended upon  —  no  fainters  in  spirit  —  none  who  turn 
back  from  Mount  Gilead  for  fear  of  the  Amalekites,  but 
men  of  war,  accustomed  to  strike  with  the  sword,  and 
to  need  no  second  blow.  Finally,  he  represented  that  it 
would  be  wisely  done  if  the  General  should  put  Pearson, 
or  any  other  officer  whom  he  could  completely  trust,  into 
the  command  of  the  detachment,  and  keep  his  own  per- 
son, if  he  should  think  it  proper  to  attend,  secret  even 
from  the  soldiers. 

All  this  man's  counsels  Cromwell  had  punctually  fol- 
lowed. He  had  travelled  in  the  van  of  this  detachment 
of  one  hundred  picked  soldiers  whom  he  had  selected 
for  the  service  —  men  of  dauntless  resolution,  bred  in 
a  thousand  dangers,  and  who  were  steeled  against  all 
feelings  of  hesitation  and  compassion  by  the  deep 
and  gloomy  fanaticism  which  was  their  chief  principle 
of  action  —  men  to  whom,  as  their  general,  and  no  less 
as  the  chief  among  the  elect,  the  commands  of  Oliver 
were  like  a  commission  from  the  Deity. 

Great  and  deep  was  the  General's  mortification  at  the 
277 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

unexpected  absence  of  the  personage  on  whose  agency 
he  so  confidently  reckoned,  and  many  conjectures  he 
formed  as  to  the  cause  of  such  mysterious  conduct. 
Sometimes  he  thought  Tomkins  had  been  overcome  by 
liquor,  a  frailty  to  which  Cromwell  knew  him  to  be  ad- 
dicted; and  when  he  held  this  opinion,  he  discharged  his 
wrath  in  maledictions,  which,  of  a  different  kind  from  the 
wild  oaths  and  curses  of  the  Cavaliers,  had  yet  in  them 
as  much  blasphemy,  and  more  determined  malevolence. 
At  other  times  he  thought  some  unexpected  alarm,  or 
perhaps  some  drunken  Cavalier  revel,  had  caused  the 
family  of  Woodstock  Lodge  to  make  later  hours  than 
usual.  To  this  conjecture,  which  appeared  the  most 
probable  of  any,  his  mind  often  recurred;  and  it  was  the 
hope  that  Tomkins  would  still  appear  at  the  rendezvous 
which  induced  him  to  remain  at  the  borough,  anxious  to 
receive  communication  from  his  emissary,  and  afraid 
of  endangering  the  success  of  the  enterprise  by  any  pre- 
mature exertion  on  his  own  part. 

In  the  mean  time,  Cromwell,  finding  it  no  longer  pos- 
sible to  conceal  his  personal  presence,  disposed  of  every- 
thing so  as  to  be  ready  at  a  minute's  notice.  Half  his 
soldiers  he  caused  to  dismount,  and  had  the  horses  put 
into  quarters ;  the  other  half  were  directed  to  keep  their 
horses  saddled,  and  themselves  ready  to  mount  at  a 
moment's  notice.  The  men  were  brought  into  the  house 
by  turns,  and  had  some  refreshment,  leaving  a  sufficient 
guard  on  the  horses,  which  was  changed  from  time  to 
time. 

Thus  Cromwell  waited  with  no  little  uncertainty,  often 
casting  an  anxious  eye  upon  Colonel  Everard,  who,  he 
suspected,  could,  if  he  chose  it,  well  supply  the  place  of 

278 


WOODSTOCK 

his  absent  confidant.  Everard  endured  this  cahnly,  with 
unaltered  countenance,  and  brow  neither  rufHed  nor 
dejected. 

Midnight  at  length  tolled,  and  it  became  necessary 
to  take  some  decisive  step.  Tomkins  might  have  been 
treacherous ;  or,  a  suspicion  which  approached  more  near 
to  the  reality,  his  intrigue  might  have  been  discovered, 
and  he  himself  murdered,  or  kidnapped,  by  the  venge- 
ful RoyaHsts.  In  a  word,  if  any  use  was  to  be  made  of 
the  chance  which  fortune  afforded  of  securing  the  most 
formidable  claimant  of  the  supreme  power,  which  he 
already  aimed  at,  no  further  time  was  to  be  lost.  He  at 
length  gave  orders  to  Pearson  to  get  the  men  under 
arms;  he  directed  him  concerning  the  mode  of  forming 
them,  and  that  they  should  march  with  the  utmost  pos- 
sible silence;  or,  as  it  was  given  out  in  the  orders,  'Even 
as  Gideon  marched  in  silence,  when  he  went  down 
against  the  camp  of  the  Midianites,  with  only  Phurah 
his  servant.  Peradventure,'  continued  this  strange  doc- 
ument, *we  too  may  learn  of  what  yonder  Midianites 
have  dreamed.' 

A  single  patrol,  followed  by  a  corporal  and  five  steady, 
experienced  soldiers,  formed  the  advanced  guard  of  the 
party;  then  followed  the  main  body.  A  rear-guard  of 
ten  men  guarded  Everard  and  the  minister.  Cromwell 
required  the  attendance  of  the  former,  as  it  might  be 
necessary  to  examine  him,  or  confront  him  with  others; 
and  he  carried  Master  Holdenough  with  him,  because  he 
might  escape  if  left  behind,  and  perhaps  raise  some  tu- 
mult in  the  village.  The  Presbyterians,  though  they  not 
only  concurred  with,  but  led  the  way  in,  the  civil  war, 
were  at  its  conclusion  highly  dissatisfied  with  the  ascen- 

279 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

dency  of  the  military  sectaries,  and  not  to  be  trusted  as 
cordial  agents  in  anything  where  their  interest  was  con- 
cerned. The  infantry,  being  disposed  of  as  we  have  no- 
ticed, marched  off  from  the  left  of  their  line,  Cromwell 
and  Pearson,  both  on  foot,  keeping  at  the  head  of  the 
centre  or  main  body  of  the  detachment.  They  were  all 
armed  with  petronels,  short  guns  similar  to  the  modern 
carabine,  and,  like  them,  used  by  horsemen.  They 
marched  in  the  most  profound  silence  and  with  the 
utmost  regularity,  the  whole  body  moving  like  one  man. 

About  one  hundred  yards  behind  the  rearmost  of  the 
dismounted  party  came  the  troopers  who  remained  on 
horseback;  and  it  seemed  as  if  even  the  irrational  ani- 
mals were  sensible  to  Cromwell's  orders,  for  the  horses 
did  not  neigh,  and  even  appeared  to  place  their  feet  on 
the  earth  cautiously,  and  with  less  noise  than  usual. 

Their  leader,  full  of  anxious  thoughts,  never  spoke, 
save  to  enforce  by  whispers  his  caution  respecting 
silence,  while  the  men,  surprised  and  delighted  to  find 
themselves  under  the  command  of  their  renowned  general 
and  destined,  doubtless,  for  some  secret  service  of  high 
import,  used  the  utmost  precaution  in  attending  to  his 
reiterated  orders. 

They  marched  down  the  street  of  the  little  borough 
in  the  order  we  have  mentioned.  Few  of  the  townsmen 
were  abroad;  and  one  or  two  who  had  protracted  the 
orgies  of  the  evening  to  that  unusual  hour  were  too  happy 
to  escape  the  notice  of  a  strong  party  of  soldiers,  who 
often  acted  in  the  character  of  police,  to  inquire  about 
their  purpose  for  being  under  arms  so  late,  or  the  route 
which  they  were  pursuing. 

The  external  gate  of  the  chase  had,  ever  since  the 

2S0 


WOODSTOCK 

party  had  arrived  at  Woodstock,  been  strictly  guarded 
by  three  file  of  troopers,  to  cut  off  all  communications 
between  the  lodge  and  the  town.  Spitfire,  Wildrake's 
emissary,  who  had  often  been  a-birdnesting,  or  on  simi- 
lar mischievous  excursions,  in  the  forest,  had  evaded  these 
men's  vigilance  by  climbing  over  a  breach,  with  which 
he  was  well  acquainted,  in  a  different  part  of  the  wall. 

Between  this  party  and  the  advanced  guard  of  Crom- 
well's detachment  a  whispered  challenge  was  exchanged, 
according  to  the  rules  of  discipline.  The  infantry  entered 
the  park,  and  were  followed  by  the  cavalry,  who  were 
directed  to  avoid  the  hard  road,  and  ride  as  much  as  pos- 
sible upon  the  turf  which  bordered  on  the  avenue.  Here, 
too,  an  additional  precaution  was  used,  a  file  or  two 
of  foot  soldiers  being  detached  to  search  the  woods  on 
either  hand,  and  make  prisoner,  or,  in  the  event  of  re- 
sistance, put  to  death,  any  whom  they  might  find  lurking 
there,  under  what  pretence  soever. 

Meanwhile  the  weather  began  to  show  itself  as  pro- 
pitious to  Cromwell  as  he  had  found  most  incidents  in 
the  course  of  his  successful  career.  The  grey  mists,  which 
had  hitherto  obscured  everything,  and  rendered  march- 
ing in  the  wood  embarrassing  and  difficult,  had  now  given 
way  to  the  moon,  which,  after  many  efforts,  at  length 
forced  her  way  through  the  vapour,  and  hung  her  dim 
dull  cresset  in  the  heavens,  which  she  enlightened,  as  the 
dying  lamp  of  an  anchorite  does  the  cell  in  which  he  re- 
poses. The  party  were  in  sight  of  the  front  of  the  palace, 
when  Holdenough  whispered  to  Everard,  as  they  walked 
near  each  other  —  '  See  ye  not  —  yonder  flutters  the 
mysterious  light  in  the  turret  of  the  incontinent  Rosa- 
mond? This  night  will  try  whether  the  devil  of  the  sect- 

281 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

aries  or  the  devil  of  the  Malignants  shall  prove  the 
stronger.  0,  sing  jubilee,  for  the  kingdom  of  Satan  is 
divided  against  itself ! ' 

Here  the  divine  was  interrupted  by  a  non-commis- 
sioned officer,  who  came  hastily,  yet  with  noiseless  steps, 
to  say,  in  a  low  stern  whisper  —  '  Silence,  prisoner  in 
the  rear  —  silence,  on  pain  of  death.' 

A  moment  afterwards  the  whole  party  stopped  their 
march,  the  word '  halt '  being  passed  from  one  to  another, 
and  instantly  obeyed. 

The  cause  of  this  interruption  was  the  hasty  return 
of  one  of  the  flanking  party  to  the  main  body,  bringing 
news  to  Cromwell  that  they  had  seen  a  light  in  the  wood 
at  some  distance  on  the  left. 

'What  can  it  be?'  said  Cromwell,  his  low  stern  voice, 
even  in  a  whisper,  making  itself  distinctly  heard. 
'Does  it  move,  or  is  it  stationary?' 

'So  far  as  we  can  judge,  it  moveth  not,'  answered  the 
trooper.  'Strange  —  there  is  no  cottage  near  the  spot 
where  it  is  seen.' 

'So  please  your  Excellency,  it  may  be  a  device  of 
Sathan,'  said  Corporal  Hum  gudgeon,  snuffling  through 
his  nose;  'he  is  mighty  powerful  in  these  parts  of  late.' 

'So  please  your  idiocy,  thou  art  an  ass,'  said  Crom- 
well; but,  instantly  recollecting  that  the  corporal  had 
been  one  of  the  adjutators  or  tribunes  of  the  common 
soldiers,  and  was  therefore  to  be  treated  with  suitable 
respect,  he  said,  'Nevertheless,  if  it  be  the  device  of 
Satan,  please  it  the  Lord  we  will  resist  him,  and  the 
foul  slave  shall  fly  from  us.  Pearson,'  he  said,  resuming 
his  soldier-like  brevity,  'take  your  file,  and  see  what 
is  yonder.  No  —  the  knaves  may  shrink  from  thee.  Go 

282 


WOODSTOCK 

thou  straight  to  the  lodge;  invest  it  in  the  way  we  agreed, 
so  that  a  bird  shall  not  escape  out  of  it;  form  an  outer 
and  an  inward  ring  of  sentinels,  but  give  no  alarm  until 
I  come.  Should  any  attempt  to  escape,  kill  them/ 
He  spoke  that  command  with  terrible  emphasis,  '  Kill 
them  on  the  spot,'  he  repeated,  'be  they  who  or  what 
they  will.  Better  so  than  trouble  the  Commonwealth 
with  prisoners.' 

Pearson  heard,  and  proceeded  to  obey  his  command- 
er's orders. 

Meanwhile,  the  future  Protector  disposed  the  small 
force  which  remained  with  him  in  such  a  manner  that 
they  should  approach  from  different  points  at  once  the 
light  which  excited  his  suspicions,  and  gave  them  orders 
to  creep  as  near  to  it  as  they  could,  taking  care  not  to 
lose  each  other's  support,  and  to  be  ready  to  rush  in  at 
the  same  moment  when  he  should  give  the  sign,  which 
was  to  be  a  loud  whistle.  Anxious  to  ascertain  the  truth 
with  his  own  eyes,  Cromwell,  who  had  by  instinct  all  the 
habits  of  military  foresight  which,  in  others,  are  the 
result  of  professional  education  and  long  experience, 
advanced  upon  the  object  of  his  curiosity.  He  skulked 
from  tree  to  tree  with  the  Ught  step  and  prowling  sa- 
gacity of  an  Indian  bush-fighter;  and  before  any  of  his 
men  had  approached  so  near  as  to  descry  them,  he  saw, 
by  the  lantern  which  was  placed  on  the  ground,  two 
men,  who  had  been  engaged  in  digging  what  seemed 
to  be  an  ill-made  grave.  Near  them  lay  extended  some- 
thing wrapped  in  a  deer's  hide,  which  greatly  resembled 
the  dead  body  of  a  man.  They  spoke  together  in  a  low 
voice,  yet  so  that  their  dangerous  auditor  could  perfectly 
overhear  what  they  said. 

283 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

'It  is  done  at  last/  said  one  —  *  the  worst  and  hardest 
labour  I  ever  did  in  my  life.  I  believe  there  is  no  luck 
about  me  left.  My  very  arms  feel  as  if  they  did  not  be- 
long to  me;  and,  strange  to  tell,  toil  as  hard  as  I  would, 
I  could  not  gather  warmth  in  my  Hmbs.' 

*I  have  warmed  me  enough,'  said  Rochecliffe,  breath- 
ing short  with  fatigue. 

*  But  the  cold  Ues  at  my  heart,'  said  Joceline;  'I  scarce 
hope  ever  to  be  warm  again.  It  is  strange,  and  a  charm 
seems  to  be  on  us.  Here  have  we  been  nigh  two  hours  in 
doing  what  Diggen  the  sexton  would  have  done  to  better 
purpose  in  half  a  one.' 

'We  are  wretched  spadesmen  enough,'  answered  Dr. 
Rochecliffe.  *  Every  man  to  his  tools  —  thou  to  thy 
bugle-horn,  and  I  to  my  papers  in  cipher.  But  do  not  be 
discouraged :  it  is  the  frost  on  the  ground,  and  the  num- 
ber of  roots,  which  rendered  our  task  difficult.  And  now, 
all  due  rites  done  to  this  unhappy  man,  and  having  read 
over  him  the  service  of  the  church,  valeat  quantum,  let  us 
lay  him  decently  in  this  place  of  last  repose;  there  will  be 
small  lack  of  him  above  ground.  So  cheer  up  thy  head, 
man,  like  a  soldier  as  thou  art;  we  have  read  the  service 
over  his  body,  and  should  times  permit  it,  we  will  have 
him  removed  to  consecrated  ground,  though  he  is  all  un- 
worthy of  such  favour.  Here,  help  me  to  lay  him  in  the 
earth;  we  will  drag  briers  and  thorns  over  the  spot  when 
we  have  shovelled  dust  upon  dust;  and  do  thou  think  of 
this  chance  more  manfully ;  and  remember,  thy  secret  is 
in  thine  own  keeping.' 

'I  cannot  answer  for  that,'  said  Joceline.  'Methinks 
the  very  night  winds  among  the  leaves  will  tell  of  what 
we  have  been  doing;  methinks  the  trees  themselves  will 

284 


WOODSTOCK 

say,  "There  is  a  dead  corpse  Kes  among  our  roots." 
Witnesses  are  soon  found  when  blood  hath  been  spilled.' 

'They  are  so,  and  that  right  early,'  exclaimed  Crom- 
well, starting  from  the  thicket,  laying  hold  on  Joceline, 
and  putting  a  pistol  to  his  head.  At  any  other  period 
of  his  Ufe,  the  forester  would,  even  against  the  odds 
of  numbers,  have  made  a  desperate  resistance;  but  the 
horror  he  had  felt  at  the  slaughter  of  an  old  companion, 
although  in  defence  of  his  own  Ufe,  together  with  fatigue 
and  surprise,  had  altogether  unmanned  him,  and  he  was 
seized  as  easily  as  a  sheep  is  secured  by  the  butcher. 
Dr.  Rochecliffe  offered  some  resistance,  but  was  pre- 
sently secured  by  the  soldiers  who  pressed  aroimd 
him. 

'Look,  some  of  you,'  said  Cromwell,  'what  corpse  this 
is  upon  whom  these  lewd  sons  of  Belial  have  done  a 
murder.  Corporal  Grace-be-here  Humgudgeon,  see  if 
thou  knowest  the  face.' 

'I  profess  I  do,  even  as  I  should  do  mine  own  in  a 
mirror,'  snufHed  the  corporal,  after  looking  on  the  coun- 
tenance of  the  dead  man  by  the  help  of  the  lantern.  'Of 
a  verity  it  is  our  trusty  brother  in  the  faith,  Joseph 
Tomkins. ' 

'Tomkins!'  exclaimed  Cromwell,  springing  forward 
and  satisfying  himself  with  a  glance  at  the  features  of 
the  corpse  —  *  Tomkins !  and  murdered,  as  the  fracture 
of  the  temple  intimates!  Dogs  that  ye  are,  confess  the 
truth.  You  have  murdered  him  because  you  have  dis- 
covered his  treachery  —  I  should  say  his  true  spirit 
towards  the  Commonwealth  of  England,  and  his  hatred 
of  those  complots  in  which  you  would  have  engaged  his 
honest  simplicity.' 

285 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'Ay,'  said  Grace-be-here  Humgudgeon,  'and  then  to 
misuse  his  dead  body  with  your  Papistical  doctrines,  as 
if  you  had  crammed  cold  porridge  into  its  cold  mouth.  I 
pray  thee,  General,  let  these  men's  bonds  be  made 
strong.' 

'Forbear,  corporal,'  said  Cromwell;  'our  time  presses. 
Friend,  to  you,  whom  I  beHeve  to  be  Dr.  Anthony 
Rochecliffe  by  name  and  surname,  I  have  to  give  the 
choice  of  being  hanged  at  daybreak  to-morrow,  or  mak- 
ing atonement  for  the  murder  of  one  of  the  Lord's  people 
by  telling  what  thou  knowest  of  the  secrets  which  are  in 
yonder  house.' 

'Truly,  sir,'  replied  Rochecliffe,  'you  found  me  but  in 
my  duty  as  a  clergyman  interring  the  dead ;  and  respect- 
ing answering  your  questions,  I  am  determined  myself, 
and  do  advise  my  fellow-sufferer  on  this  occasion  — ' 

'Remove  him,'  said  Cromwell;  *I  know  his  stiffneck- 
edness  of  old,  though  I  have  made  him  plough  in  my 
furrow,  when  he  thought  he  was  turning  up  his  own 
swathe.  Remove  him  to  the  rear,  and  bring  hither  the 
other  fellow.  Come  thou  here  —  this  way  —  closer  — 
closer.  Corporal  Grace-be-here,  do  thou  keep  thy  hand 
upon  the  belt  with  which  he  is  bound.  We  must  take 
care  of  our  life  for  the  sake  of  this  distracted  country, 
though,  lack-a-day,  for  its  own  proper  worth  we  could 
peril  it  for  a  pin's  point.  Now,  mark  me,  fellow,  choose 
betwixt  buying  thy  Hfe  by  a  full  confession  or  being 
tucked  presently  up  to  one  of  these  old  oaks.  How  likest 
thou  that?' 

'Truly,  master,'  answered  the  under-keeper,  affecting 
■more  rusticity  than  was  natural  to  him,  for  his  frequent 
intercourse  with  Sir  Henry  Lee  had  partly  softened  and 

286 


WOODSTOCK 

polished  his  manners,  'I  think  the  oak  is  like  to  bear  a 
lusty  acorn,  that  is  all.' 

'Dally  not  with  me,  friend,'  continued  OHver;  *I  pro- 
fess to  thee  in  sincerity  I  am  no  trifler.  What  guests 
have  you  seen  at  yonder  house  called  the  lodge? ' 

*  Many  a  brave  guest  in  my  day,  I  'se  warrant  ye,  mas- 
ter,' said  JoceHne.  'Ah,  to  see  how  the  chimneys  used  to 
smoke  some  twelve  years  back!  Ah,  sir,  a  sniff  of  it 
would  have  dined  a  poor  man.' 

'Out,  rascal!'  said  the  General,  'dost  thou  jeer  me? 
Tell  me  at  once  what  guests  have  been  of  late  in  the 
lodge;  and  look  thee,  friend,  be  assured  that,  in  rendering 
me  this  satisfaction,  thou  shalt  not  only  rescue  thy  neck 
from  the  halter,  but  render  also  an  acceptable  service  to 
the  state,  and  one  which  I  will  see  fittingly  rewarded. 
For,  truly,  I  am  not  of  those  who  would  have  the  rain 
fall  only  on  the  proud  and  stately  plants,  but  rather 
would,  so  far  as  my  poor  wishes  and  prayers  are  con- 
cerned, that  it  should  also  fall  upon  the  lowly  and  humble 
grass  and  corn,  that  the  heart  of  the  husbandman  may  be 
rejoiced,  and  that,  as  the  cedar  of  Lebanon  waxes  in  its 
height,  in  its  boughs,  and  in  its  roots,  so  may  the  hum- 
ble and  lowly  hyssop  that  groweth  upon  the  walls  flour- 
ish, and  —  and,  truly  —  Understand'st  thou  me,  knave? ' 

'Not  entirely,  if  it  please  your  honour,'  said  Joceline; 
'but  it  sounds  as  if  you  were  preaching  a  sermon,  and 
has  a  marvellous  twang  of  doctrine  with  it.' 

'Then,  in  one  word,  thou  knowest  there  is  one  Louis 
Kerneguy,  or  Carnego,  or  some  such  name,  in  hiding  at 
the  lodge  yonder? ' 

'Nay,  sir,'  replied  the  under-keeper,  'there  have  been 
many  coming  and  going  since  Worcester  field ;  and  how 

287 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

should  I  know  who  they  are?  My  service  is  out  of  doors, 
I  trow.' 

*A  thousand  pounds,'  said  Cromwell,  'do  I  tell  down 
to  thee,  if  thou  canst  place  that  boy  in  my  power.' 

'A  thousand  pounds  is  a  marvellous  matter,  sir,'  said 
Joceline;  'but  I  have  more  blood  on  my  hand  than  I  like 
already.  I  know  not  how  the  price  of  life  may  thrive; 
and,  'scape  or  hang,  I  have  no  mind  to  try.' 

'Away  with  him  to  the  rear,'  said  the  General;  'and 
let  him  not  speak  with  his  yoke-fellow  yonder.  Fool  that 
I  am,  to  waste  time  in  expecting  to  get  milk  from  mules. 
Move  on  towards  the  lodge.' 

They  moved  with  the  same  silence  as  formerly,  not- 
withstanding the  difficulties  which  they  encountered 
from  being  unacquainted  with  the  road  and  its  various 
intricacies.  At  length  they  were  challenged,  in  a  low 
voice,  by  one  of  their  own  sentinels,  two  concentric 
circles  of  whom  had  been  placed  around  the  lodge,  so 
close  to  each  other  as  to  preclude  the  possibility  of  an 
individual  escaping  from  within.  The  outer  guard  was 
maintained  partly  by  horse  upon  the  roads  and  open 
lawn,  and  where  the  ground  was  broken  and  bushy  by 
infantry.  The  inner  circle  was  guarded  by  foot  soldiers 
only.  The  whole  were  in  the  highest  degree  alert,  ex- 
pecting some  interesting  and  important  consequences 
from  the  unusual  expedition  on  which  they  were  en- 
gaged. 

'Any  news,  Pearson?'  said  the  General  to  his  aide-de- 
camp, who  came  instantly  to  report  to  his  superior. 

He  received  for  answer,  'None.' 

Cromwell  led  his  officer  forward  just  opposite  to  the 
door  of  the  lodge,  and  there  paused  betwixt  the  circles  of 

288 


WOODSTOCK 

guards,  so  that  their  conversation  could  not  be  over- 
heard. 

He  then  pursued  his  inquiry,  demanding  —  *  Were 
there  any  lights,  any  appearances  of  stirring  —  any 
attempt  at  sally  —  any  preparation  for  defence?' 

*A11  as  silent  as  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death, 
even  as  the  vale  of  Jehosaphat.' 

'Pshaw!  tell  me  not  of  Jehosaphat,  Pearson,'  said 
Cromwell.  'These  words  are  good  for  others,  but  not  for 
thee.  Speak  plainly,  and  like  a  blunt  soldier  as  thou  art. 
Each  man  hath  his  own  mode  of  speech;  and  bluntness, 
not  sanctity,  is  thine.' 

'Well,  then,  nothing  has  been  stirring,'  said  Pearson. 
*  Yet  perad venture  — ' 

' Peradventure  not  me,'  said  Cromwell,  'or  thou  wilt 
tempt  me  to  knock  thy  teeth  out.  I  ever  distrust  a  man 
when  he  speaks  after  another  fashion  from  his  own.' 

'Zounds!  let  me  speak  to  an  end,'  answered  Pearson, 
*and  I  will  speak  in  what  language  your  Excellency  will.' 

'Thy  "zounds,"  friend,'  said  Oliver,  'showeth  little  of 
grace,  but  much  of  sincerity.  Go  to,  then  —  thou  know- 
est  I  love  and  trust  thee.  Hast  thou  kept  close  watch? 
It  behoves  us  to  know  that,  before  giving  the  alarm.' 

'On  my  soul,'  said  Pearson, ' I  have  watched  as  closely 
as  a  cat  at  a  mouse-hole.  It  is  beyond  possibility  that 
anything  could  have  eluded  our  vigilance,  or  even 
stirred  within  the  house,  without  our  being  aware  of  it.' 

"T  is  well,'  said  Cromwell;  'thy  services  shall  not  be 
forgotten,  Pearson.   Thou  canst  not  preach  and  pray, 
but  thou  canst  obey  thine  orders,  Gilbert  Pearson,  and 
that  may  make  amends.' 
,   '  I  thank  your  Excellency,'  replied  Pearson ; ' but  I  beg 

S8  289 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

leave  to  chime  in  with  the  humours  of  the  times.  A  poor 
fellow  hath  no  right  to  hold  himself  singular.' 

He  paused,  expecting  Cromwell's  orders  what  next 
was  to  be  done,  and,  indeed,  not  a  Httle  surprised  that 
the  General's  active  and  prompt  spirit  had  suffered  him, 
during  a  moment  so  critical,  to  cast  away  a  thought 
upon  a  circumstance  so  trivial  as  his  officer's  peculiar 
mode  of  expressing  himself.  He  wondered  still  more 
when,  by  a  brighter  gleam  of  moonshine  than  he  had  yet 
enjoyed,  he  observed  that  Cromwell  was  standing  mo- 
tionless, his  hands  supported  upon  his  sword,  which  he 
had  taken  out  of  the  belt,  and  his  stern  brows  bent  on 
the  ground.  He  waited  for  some  time  impatiently,  yet 
afraid  to  interfere,  lest  he  should  awaken  this  unwonted 
fit  of  ill-timed  melancholy  into  anger  and  impatience. 
He  listened  to  the  muttering  sounds  which  escaped  from 
the  half-opening  Ups  of  his  principal,  in  which  the  words, 
'hard  necessity,'  which  occurred  more  than  once,  were 
all  of  which  the  sense  could  be  distinguished.  *My  Lord 
General,'  at  length  he  said,  'time  flies.' 

'Peace,  busy  fiend,  and  urge  me  not!'  said  Cromwell. 
'Think'st  thou,  Uke  other  fools,  that  I  have  made  a  pac- 
tion with  the  Devil  for  success,  and  am  bound  to  do  my 
work  within  an  appointed  hour,  lest  the  spell  should  lose 
its  force? ' 

'I  only  think,  my  Lord  General,'  said  Pearson,  'that 
Fortune  has  put  into  your  offer  what  you  have  long 
desired  to  make  prize  of,  and  that  you  hesitate.' 

Cromwell  sighed  deeply  as  he  answered,  'Ah,  Pearson, 
in  this  troubled  world  a  man  who  is  called,  like  me,  to 
work  great  things  in  Israel  had  need  to  be,  as  the  poets 
feign,  a  thing  made  of  hardened  metal,  immovable  to 

290 


WOODSTOCK 

feelings  of  human  charities,  impassible,  resistless.  Pear- 
son, the  world  will  hereafter,  perchance,  think  of  me  as 
being  such  a  one  as  I  have  described,  "an  iron  man,  and 
made  of  iron  mould."  Yet  they  will  wrong  my  memory: 
my  heart  is  flesh,  and  my  blood  is  mild  as  that  of  others. 
When  I  was  a  sportsman,  I  have  wept  for  the  gallant 
heron  that  was  struck  down  by  my  hawk,  and  sorrowed 
for  the  hare  which  lay  screaming  under  the  jaws  of  my 
greyhound;  and  canst  thou  think  it  a  light  thing  to  me 
that,  the  blood  of  this  lad's  father  lying  in  some  measure 
upon  my  head,  I  should  now  put  in  peril  that  of  the  son? 
They  are  of  the  kindly  race  of  English  sovereigns,  and, 
doubtless,  are  adored  like  to  demigods  by  those  of  their 
own  party.  I  am  called  "parricide,"  "bloodthirsty 
usurper,"  already,  for  shedding  the  blood  of  one  man, 
that  the  plague  might  be  stayed ;  or  as  Achan  was  slain 
that  Israel  might  thereafter  stand  against  the  face  of 
their  enemies.  Nevertheless,  who  has  spoke  unto  me 
graciously  since  that  high  deed?  Those  who  acted  in  the 
matter  with  me  are  willing  that  I  should  be  the  scape- 
goat of  atonement;  those  who  looked  on  and  helped  not 
bear  themselves  now  as  if  they  had  been  borne  down  by 
violence;  and  while  I  looked  that  they  should  shout 
applause  on  me,  because  of  the  victory  of  Worcester, 
whereof  the  Lord  had  made  me  the  poor  instrument, 
they  look  aside  to  say,  "Ha!  ha!  'the  king-killer,'  'the 
parricide'  —  soon  shall  his  place  be  made  desolate." 
Truly  it  is  a  great  thing,  Gilbert  Pearson,  to  be  lifted 
above  the  multitude;  but  when  one  feeleth  that  his 
exaltation  is  rather  hailed  with  hate  and  scorn  than  with 
love  and  reverence,  in  sooth,  it  is  still  a  hard  matter  for  a 
mild,  tender-conscienced,  infirm  spirit  to  bear;  and  God 

291 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

be  my  witness  that,  rather  than  do  this  new  deed,  I 
would  shed  my  own  best  heart's-blood  in  a  pitched  field, 
twenty  against  one.'  Here  he  fell  into  a  flood  of  tears, 
which  he  sometimes  was  wont  to  do.  This  extremity  of 
emotion  was  of  a  singular  character.  It  was  not  actually 
the  result  of  penitence,  and  far  less  that  of  absolute 
hypocrisy,  but  arose  merely  from  the  temperature  of 
that  remarkable  man,  whose  deep  policy  and  ardent 
enthusiasm  were  intermingled  with  a  strain  of  hypo- 
chondriacal passion,  which  often  led  him  to  exhibit  scenes 
of  this  sort,  though  seldom,  as  now,  when  he  was  called 
to  the  execution  of  great  undertakings. 

Pearson,  well  acquainted  as  he  was  with  the  peculiari- 
ties of  his  General,  was  bafiled  and  confounded  by  this 
fit  of  hesitation  and  contrition,  by  which  his  enterpris- 
ing spirit  appeared  to  be  so  suddenly  paralysed.  After 
a  moment's  silence,  he  said,  with  some  dryness  of  man- 
ner, *  If  this  be  the  case,  it  is  a  pity  your  Excellency  came 
hither.  Corporal  Humgudgeon  and  I,  the  greatest  saint 
and  greatest  sinner  in  your  army,  had  done  the  deed, 
and  divided  the  guilt  and  the  honour  betwixt  us.' 

'Ha!'  said  Cromwell,  as  if  touched  to  the  quick, 
'wouldst  thou  take  the  prey  from  the  Hon?' 

'If  the  lion  behaves  like  a  village  cur,'  said  Pearson, 
boldly,  'who  now  barks  and  seems  as  if  he  would  tear  all 
to  pieces,  and  now  flies  from  a  raised  stick  or  a  stone,  I 
know  not  why  I  should  fear  him.  If  Lambert  had  been 
here,  there  had  been  less  speaking  and  more  action.' 

'Lambert!  What  of  Lambert?'  said  Cromwefl,  very 
sharply. 

'Only,'  said  Pearson,  'that  I  long  since  hesitated 
whether  I  should  follow  your  ExceUency  or  him,  and  I 

292 


WOODSTOCK 

begin  to  be  uncertain  whether  I  have  made  the  best 
choice,  that 'sail.' 

'Lambert!'  exclaimed  Cromwell,  impatiently,  yet 
softening  his  voice  lest  he  should  be  overheard  descant- 
ing on  the  character  of  his  rival,  —  'WTiat  is  Lambert? 
a  tulip-fancying  fellow,  whom  nature  intended  for  a 
Dutch  gardener  at  Delft  or  Rotterdam.  Ungrateful  as 
thou  art,  what  could  Lambert  have  done  for  thee?' 

'He  would  not,'  answered  Pearson,  'have  stood  here 
hesitating  before  a  locked  door,  when  Fortune  presented 
the  means  of  securing,  by  one  blow,  his  own  fortune  and 
that  of  all  who  followed  him.' 

'Thou  art  right,  Gilbert  Pearson,'  said  Cromwell, 
grasping  his  officer's  hand  and  strongly  pressing  it.  'Be 
the  half  of  this  bold  accompt  thine,  whether  the  reckon- 
ing be  on  earth  or  heaven.' 

'Be  the  whole  of  it  mine  hereafter,'  said  Pearson, 
hardily,  'so  your  Excellency  have  the  advantage  of  it 
upon  earth.  Step  back  to  the  rear  till  I  force  the  door: 
there  may  be  danger,  if  despair  induce  them  to  make  a 
desperate  sally.' 

'And  if  they  do  sally,  is  there  one  of  my  Ironsides  who 
fears  fire  or  steel  less  than  myself?'  said  the  General. 
'Let  ten  of  the  most  determined  men  follow  us,  two  with 
halberds,  two  with  petronels,  the  others  with  pistols. 
Let  all  their  arms  be  loaded,  and  fire  without  hesitation, 
if  there  is  any  attempt  to  resist  or  to  sally  forth.  Let 
Corporal  Humgudgeon  be  with  them,  and  do  thou 
remain  here,  and  watch  against  escape,  as  thou  wouldst 
watch  for  thy  salvation.' 

The  General  then  struck  at  the  door  v/ith  the  hilt  of 
his  sword  —  at  first  with  a  single  blow  or  two,  then  with 

293 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

a  reverberation  of  strokes  that  made  the  ancient  build- 
ing ring  again.  This  noisy  summons  was  repeated  once 
or  twice  without  producing  the  least  effect. 

'What  can  this  mean?'  said  Cromwell;  'they  cannot 
surely  have  fled,  and  left  the  house  empty? ' 

'No,'  replied  Pearson,  'I  will  ensure  you  against  that; 
but  your  Excellency  strikes  so  fiercely,  you  allow  no 
time  for  an  answer.  Hark !  I  hear  the  baying  of  a  hound, 
and  the  voice  of  a  man  who  is  quieting  him.  Shall  we 
break  in  at  once  or  hold  parley? ' 

'I  will  speak  to  them  first/  said  Cromwell.  'Hollo! 
who  is  within  there? ' 

'Who  is  it  inquires? '  answered  Sir  Henry  Lee  from  the 
interior;  'or  what  want  you  here  at  this  dead  hour?' 

'We  come  by  warrant  of  the  Commonwealth  of  Eng- 
land,' said  the  General. 

'I  must  see  your  warrant  ere  I  undo  either  bolt  or 
latch,'  replied  the  knight;  'we  are  enough  of  us  to  make 
good  the  castle;  neither  I  nor  my  fellows  will  deliver  it 
up  but  upon  good  quarter  and  conditions,  and  we  will 
not  treat  for  these  save  in  fair  daylight.' 

*  Since  you  will  not  yield  to  our  right,  you  must  try  our 
might,'  replied  Cromwell.  'Look  to  yourselves  within, 
the  door  will  be  in  the  midst  of  you  in  five  minutes.' 

'Look  to  yourselves  without,'  replied  the  stout- 
hearted Sir  Henry;  'we  will  pour  our  shot  upon  you  if 
you  attempt  the  least  violence.' 

But,  alas!  while  he  assumed  this  bold  language,  his 
whole  garrison  consisted  of  two  poor  terrified  women; 
for  his  son,  in  conformity  with  the  plan  which  they  had 
fixed  upon,  had  withdrawn  from  the  hall  into  the  secret 
recesses  of  the  palace. 

294 


WOODSTOCK 

'What  can  they  be  doing  now,  sir?'  said  Phoebe,  hear- 
ing a  noise  as  it  were  of  a  carpenter  turning  screw-nails, 
mixed  with  a  low  buzz  of  men  talking. 

'They  are  fixing  a  petard,'  said  the  knight,  with  great 
composure.  'I  have  noted  thee  for  a  clever  wench, 
Phoebe,  and  I  will  explain  it  to  thee:  't  is  a  metal  pot, 
shaped  much  like  one  of  the  roguish  knaves'  own  sugar- 
loaf  hats,  supposing  it  had  narrower  brims;  it  is  charged 
with  some  few  pounds  of  fine  gunpowder.  Then  — ' 

'Gracious!  we  shall  be  all  blown  up!'  exclaimed 
Phoebe,  the  word  'gunpowder'  being  the  only  one  which 
she  understood  in  the  knight's  description. 

'Not  a  bit,  foolish  girl.  Pack  old  Dame  Jellicot  into 
the  embrasure  of  yonder  window,'  said  the  knight,  'on 
that  side  of  the  door,  and  we  will  ensconce  ourselves  on 
this,  and  we  shall  have  time  to  finish  my  explanation,  for 
they  have  bungling  engineers.  We  had  a  clever  French 
fellow  at  Newark  would  have  done  the  job  in  the  firing 
of  a  pistol.' 

They  had  scarce  got  into  the  place  of  security  when 
the  knight  proceeded  with  his  description.  '  The  petard 
being  formed,  as  I  tell  you,  is  secured  with  a  thick  and 
strong  piece  of  plank,  termed  the  madrier,  and  the  whole 
being  suspended,  or  rather  secured,  against  the  gate  to 
be  forced  —  But  thou  mindest  me  not?' 

'  How  can  I,  Sir  Henry,'  she  said, '  within  reach  of  such 
a  thing  as  you  speak  of?  O  Lord !  I  shall  go  mad  with 
very  terror;  we  shall  be  crushed  —  blown  up  —  in  a  few 
minutes ! ' 

'We  are  secure  from  the  explosion,'  replied  the  knight, 
gravely,  'which  will  operate  chiefly  in  a  forward  direc- 
tion into  the  middle  of  the  chamber;  and  from  any 

295 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

fragments  that  may  fly  laterally,  we  are  sufficiently 
guarded  by  this  deep  embrasure.' 

'But  they  will  slay  us  when  they  enter,'  said  Phoebe. 

'They  will  give  thee  fair  quarter,  wench,'  said  Sir 
Henry;  'and  if  I  do  not  bestow  a  brace  of  balls  on  that 
rogue  engineer,  it  is  because  I  would  not  incur  the  pen- 
alty inflicted  by  martial  law,  which  condemns  to  the 
edge  of  the  sword  all  persons  who  attempt  to  defend  an 
untenable  post.  Not  that  I  think  the  rigour  of  the  law 
could  reach  Dame  JelHcot  or  thyself,  Phoebe,  consider- 
ing that  you  carry  no  arms.  If  Alice  had  been  here  she 
might  indeed  have  done  somewhat,  for  she  can  use  a 
birding-piece.' 

Phoebe  might  have  appealed  to  her  own  deeds  of 
that  day,  as  more  allied  to  feats  of  melee  and  battle  than 
any  which  her  young  lady  ever  acted;  but  she  was  in 
an  agony  of  inexpressible  terror,  expecting,  from  the 
knight's  account  of  the  petard,  some  dreadful  catastro- 
phe, of  what  nature  she  did  not  justly  understand,  not- 
withstanding his  Hberal  communication  on  the  subject. 

'They  are  strangely  awkward  at  it,'  said  Sir  Henry: 
'little  Boutirlin  would  have  blown  the  house  up  before 
now.  Ah!  he  is  a  fellow  would  take  the  earth  like  a 
rabbit;  if  he  had  been  here,  never  may  I  stir  but  he 
would  have  countermined  them  ere  now,  and 

'T  is  sport  to  have  the  engineer 
Hoist  with  his  own  petard, 

as  our  immortal  Shakespeare  has  it.' 

'Oh,  Lord,  the  poor  mad  old  gentleman,'  thought 
Phoebe.  '  Oh,  sir,  had  you  not  better  leave  alone  play- 
books,  and  think  of  your  end?'  uttered  she  aloud,  in 
sheer  terror  and  vexation  of  spirit. 

296 


WOODSTOCK 

*If  I  had  not  made  up  my  mind  to  that  many  days 
since,'  answered  the  knight,  *I  had  not  now  met  this 
hour  with  a  free  bosom. 

As  gentle  and  as  jocund  as  to  rest, 

Go  I  to  death:  truth  hath  a  quiet  breast.* 

As  he  spoke,  a  broad  glare  of  Ught  flashed  from  with- 
out through  the  windows  of  the  hall,  and  betwixt  the 
strong  iron  stanchions  with  which  they  were  secured  — 
a  broad  discoloured  light  it  was,  which  shed  a  red  and 
dusky  illumination  on  the  old  armour  and  weapons,  as 
if  it  had  been  the  reflection  of  a  conflagration.  Phoebe 
screamed  aloud,  and,  forgetful  of  reverence  in  the  mo- 
ment of  passion,  clung  close  to  the  knight's  cloak  and 
arm,  while  Dame  Jellicot,  from  her  solitary  niche,  hav- 
ing the  use  of  her  eyes,  though  bereft  of  her  hearing, 
yelled  like  an  owl  when  the  moon  breaks  out  suddenly. 

'Take  care,  good  Phoebe,'  said  the  knight;  'you  will 
prevent  my  using  my  weapon  if  you  hang  upon  me  thus. 
The  bungling  fools  cannot  fix  their  petard  without  the 
use  of  torches!  Now  let  me  take  the  advantage  of  this 
interval.  Remember  what  I  told  thee,  and  how  to  put 
off  time.' 

'  Oh,  Lord  —  ay,  sir,'  said  Phoebe,  'I  will  say  anything. 
Oh,  Lord,  that  it  were  but  over!  Ah!  ah!  (two  pro- 
longed screams)  —  I  hear  something  hissing  Hke  a  ser- 
pent.' 

'It  is  the  fusee,  as  we  martialists  call  it,'  replied  the 
knight;  'that  is,  Phoebe,  the  match  which  fires  the 
petard,  and  which  is  longer  or  shorter,  according  to 
the  distance  — ' 

Here  the  knight's  discourse  was  cut  short  by  a  dread- 
ful explosion,  which,  as  he  had  foretold,  shattered  the 

297 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

door,  strong  as  it  was,  to  pieces,  and  brought  down  the 
glass  clattering  from  the  windows,  with  all  the  painted 
heroes  and  heroines  who  had  been  recorded  on  that  fra- 
gile place  of  memory  for  centuries.  The  women  shrieked 
incessantly,  and  were  answered  by  the  bellowing  of  Be- 
vis,  though  shut  up  at  a  distance  from  the  scene  of 
action.  The  knight,  shaking  Phoebe  from  him  with  diffi- 
culty, advanced  into  the  hall  to  meet  those  who  rushed 
in,  with  torches  lighted  and  weapons  prepared. 

'Death  to  all  who  resist — life  to  those  who  surrender!' 
exclaimed  Cromwell,  stamping  with  his  foot.  'Who  com- 
mands this  garrison?' 

'Sir  Henry  Lee  of  Ditchley,'  answered  the  old  knight, 
stepping  forward,  'who,  having  no  other  garrison  than 
two  weak  women,  is  compelled  to  submit  to  what  he 
would  willingly  have  resisted.' 

'Disarm  the  inveterate  and  malignant  rebel,'  cried 
Ohver. '  *  Art  thou  not  ashamed,  sir,  to  detain  me  before 
the  door  of  a  house  which  you  had  no  force  to  defend? 
Wearest  thou  so  white  a  beard,  and  knowest  thou  not 
that  to  refuse  surrendering  an  indefensible  post,  by  the 
martial  law,  deserves  hanging?' 

*  My  beard  and  I,'  said  Sir  Henry,  'have  settled  that 
matter  between  us,  and  agree  right  cordially.  It  is  bet- 
ter to  run  the  risk  of  being  hanged  Hke  honest  men  than 
to  give  up  our  trust  like  cowards  and  traitors.' 

'  Ha !  say 'st  thou? '  said  Cromwell ; '  thou  hast  powerful 
motives,  I  doubt  not,  for  running  thy  head  into  a  noose. 
But  I  will  speak  with  thee  by  and  by.  Ho!  Pearson  — 
Gilbert  Pearson,  take  this  scroll.  Take  the  elder  woman 
with  thee  —  let  her  guide  you  to  the  various  places 
therein  mentioned.  Search  every  room  therein  set  down, 

298 


WOODSTOCK 

and  arrest,  or  slay  upon  the  slightest  resistance,  whom- 
soever you  find  there.  Then  note  those  places  marked 
as  commanding  points  for  cutting  off  intercourse  through 
the  mansion,  the  landing-places  of  the  great  staircase, 
the  great  gallery,  and  so  forth.  Use  the  woman  civilly. 
The  plan  annexed  to  the  scroll  will  point  out  the  posts, 
even  if  she  prove  stupid  or  refractory.  Meanwhile,  the 
corporal,  with  a  party,  will  bring  the  old  man  and  the 
girl  there  to  some  apartment  —  the  parlour,  I  think, 
called  Victor  Lee's,  will  do  as  well  as  another.  We  will 
then  be  out  of  this  stifling  smell  of  gunpowder.' 

So  saying,  and  without  requiring  any  further  assist- 
ance or  guidance,  he  walked  towards  the  apartment  he 
had  named.  Sir  Henry  had  his  own  feehngs  when  he 
saw  the  unhesitating  decision  with  which  the  General 
led  the  way,  and  which  seemed  to  intimate  a  more  com- 
plete acquaintance  with  the  various  localities  of  Wood- 
stock than  was  consistent  with  his  own  present  design, 
to  engage  the  Commonwealth  party  in  a  fruitless  search 
through  the  intricacies  of  the  lodge. 

*I  will  now  ask  thee  a  few  questions,  old  man,'  said 
the  General,  when  they  had  arrived  in  the  room;  'and  I 
warn  thee,  that  hope  of  pardon  for  thy  many  and  per- 
severing efforts  against  the  Commonwealth  can  be  no 
otherwise  merited  than  by  the  most  direct  answers  to  the 
questions  I  am  about  to  ask.' 

Sir  Henry  bowed.  He  would  have  spoken,  but  he  felt 
his  temper  rising  high,  and  became  afraid  it  might  be 
exhausted  before  the  part  he  had  settled  to  play, in  order 
to  afford  the  King  time  for  his  escape,  should  be  brought 
to  an  end. 

'What  household  have  you  had  here,  Sir  Henry  Lee, 
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WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

within  these  few  days  —  what  guests  —  what  visitors? 
We  know  that  your  means  of  housekeeping  are  not  so 
profuse  as  usual,  so  the  catalogue  cannot  be  burden- 
some to  your  memory.' 

'Far  from  it,'  replied  the  knight,  with  unusual  com- 
mand of  temper;  'my  daughter,  and  latterly  my  son, 
have  been  my  guests;  and  I  have  had  these  females,  and 
one  JoceHne  Joliffe,  to  attend  upon  us,' 

'  I  do  not  ask  after  the  regular  members  of  your  house- 
hold, but  after  those  who  have  been  within  your  gates, 
either  as  guests  or  as  MaHgnant  fugitives  taking  shelter.' 

*  There  may  have  been  more  of  both  kinds,  sir,  than  I, 
if  it  please  your  valour,  am  able  to  answer  for,'  replied 
the  knight.  '  I  remember  my  kinsman  Everard  was  here 
one  morning;  also,  I  bethink  me,  a  follower  of  his,  called 
Wildrake.' 

'Did  you  not  also  receive  a  young  Cavalier  called 
Louis  Garnegey?'  said  Cromwell. 

'I  remember  no  such  name,  were  I  to  hang  for  it,'  said 
the  knight. 

'Kerneguy,  or  some  such  word,'  said  the  General;  'we 
will  not  quarrel  for  a  sound.' 

'A  Scotch  lad,  called  Louis  Kerneguy,  was  a  guest  of 
mine,'  said  Sir  Henry;  'and  left  me  this  morning  for 
Dorsetshire.' 

'So  late!'  exclaimed  Cromwell, stamping  with  his  foot. 
'How  fate  contrives  to  baffle  us,  even  when  she  seems 
most  favourable !  What  direction  did  he  take,  old  man? ' 
continued  Cromwell  —  '  what  horse  did  he  ride  —  who 
went  with  him?' 

'My  son  went  with  him,'  replied  the  knight;  'he 
brought  him  here  as  the  son  of  a  Scottish  lord.  I  pray 

300 


WOODSTOCK 

you,  sir,  to  be  finished  with  these  questions;  for  although 
I  owe  thee,  as  Will  Shakespeare  says, 

Respect  for  thy  great  place,  and  let  the  devU 
Be  sometimes  honour'd  for  his  burning  throne, 

yet  I  feel  my  patience  wearing  thin.' 

Cromwell  here  whispered  to  the  corporal,  who  in  turn 
uttered  orders  to  two  soldiers,  who  left  the  room.  'Place 
the  knight  aside ;  we  will  now  examine  the  servant  dam- 
sel,' said  the  General.  'Dost  thou  know,'  he  said  to 
Phoebe,  '  of  the  presence  of  one  Louis  Kerneguy,  calhng 
himself  a  Scotch  page,  who  came  here  a  few  days  since?' 

'Surely,  sir,'  she  repUed,  'I  cannot  easily  forget  him; 
and  I  warrant  no  well-looking  wench  that  comes  into  his 
way  will  be  Hke  to  forget  him  either.' 

'Aha,'  said  Cromwell,  'sayst  thou  so?  truly  I  beheve 
the  woman  will  prove  the  truer  witness.  When  did  he 
leave  this  house?' 

'Nay,  I  know  nothing  of  his  movements,  not  I,'  said 
Phoebe;  'I  am  only  glad  to  keep  out  of  his  way.  But  if 
he  have  actually  gone  hence,  I  am  sure  he  was  here  some 
two  hours  since,  for  he  crossed  me  in  the  lower  passage, 
between  the  hall  and  the  kitchen.' 

'  How  did  you  know  it  was  he? '  demanded  Cromwell. 

'By  a  rude  enough  token,'  said  Phoebe.  'La,  sir,  you 
do  ask  such  questions ! '  she  added,  hanging  down  her 
head. 

Humgudgeon  here  interfered,  taking  upon  himself  the 
freedom  of  a  coadjutor.  'Verily,'  he  said,  'if  what  the 
damsel  is  called  to  speak  upon  hath  aught  unseemly,  I 
crave  your  Excellency's  permission  to  withdraw,  not  de- 
siring that  my  nightly  meditations  may  be  disturbed 
with  tales  of  such  a  nature.' 

301 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'Nay,  your  honour,'  said  Phoebe,  *I  scorn  the  old 
man's  words,  in  the  way  of  seemliness  or  unseemliness 
either.  Master  Louis  did  but  snatch  a  kiss,  that  is  the 
truth  of  it,  if  it  must  be  told.' 

Here  Humgudgeon  groaned  deeply,  while  his  Excel- 
lency avoided  laughing  with  some  difficulty.  'Thou 
hast  given  excellent  tokens,  Phoebe,'  he  said;  'and  if 
they  be  true,  as  I  think  they  seem  to  be,  thou  shalt 
not  lack  thy  reward.  And  here  comes  our  spy  from  the 
stables.' 

'There  are  not  the  least  signs,'  said  the  trooper,  'that 
horses  have  been  in  the  stables  for  a  month:  there  is 
no  litter  in  the  stalls,  no  hay  in  the  racks,  the  corn-binns 
are  empty,  and  the  mangers  are  full  of  cobwebs.' 

'Ay  —  ay,'  said  the  old  knight,  'I  have  seen  when 
I  kept  twenty  good  horses  in  these  stalls,  with  many  a 
groom  and  stable-boy  to  attend  them.' 

'In  the  meanwhile,'  said  Cromwell,  'their  present 
state  tells  little  for  the  truth  of  your  own  story,  that 
there  were  horses  to-day,  on  which  this  Kerneguy  and 
your  son  fled  from  justice.' 

'I  did  not  say  that  the  horses  were  kept  there,'  said 
the  knight.  'I  have  horses  and  stables  elsewhere.' 

'Fie  —  fie,  for  shame  —  for  shame! '  said  the  General; 
*  can  a  white-bearded  man,  I  ask  it  once  more,  be  a  false 
witness? ' 

'  Faith,  sir,'  said  Sir  Henry  Lee,  'it  is  a  thriving  trade, 
and  I  wonder  not  that  you  who  live  on  it  are  so  severe  in 
prosecuting  interlopers.  But  it  is  the  times,  and  those 
who  rule  the  times,  that  make  greybeards  deceivers.' 

'Thou  art  facetious,  friend,  as  well  as  daring,  in  thy 
malignancy,'  said  Cromwell;  'but  credit  me,  I  will  cry 

302 


WOODSTOCK 

quittance  with  you  ere  I  am  done.  Whereunto  lead 
these  doors?' 

*To  bedrooms,'  answered  the  knight. 

'Bedrooms!  only  to  bedrooms?'  said  the  republican 
general,  in  a  voice  which  indicated,  such  was  the  inter- 
nal occupation  of  his  thoughts,  that  he  had  not  fully  un- 
derstood the  answer. 

'Lord,  sir,'  said  the  knight,  'why  should  you  make 
it  so  strange?  I  say  these  doors  lead  to  bedrooms  —  to 
places  where  honest  men  sleep  and  rogues  He  awake.' 

*  You  are  running  up  a  further  account,  Sir  Henry,' 
said  the  General;  'but  we  will  balance  it  once  and  for 
all.' 

During  the  whole  of  the  scene,  Cromwell,  whatever 
might  be  the  internal  uncertainty  of  his  mind,  main- 
tained the  most  strict  temperance  in  language  and  man- 
ner, just  as  if  he  had  no  further  interest  in  what  was  pass- 
ing than  as  a  military  man  employed  in  discharging  the 
duty  enjoined  him  by  his  superiors.  But  the  restraint 
upon  his  passion  was  but 

The  torrent's  smoothness  ere  it  dash  below.* 

The  course  of  his  resolutions  was  hurried  on  even 
more  forcibly  because  no  violence  of  expression  attended 
or  announced  its  current.  He  threw  himself  into  a  chair, 
with  a  countenance  that  indicated  no  indecision  of  mind, 
but  a  determination  which  awaited  only  the  signal  for 
action.  Meanwhile  the  knight,  as  if  resolved  in  nothing 
to  forego  the  privileges  of  his  rank  and  place,  sat  himself 
down  in  turn,  and  putting  on  his  hat,  which  lay  on  a 

*  But  mortal  pleasure,  what  art  tliou  in  truth? 
The  torrent's  smoothness  ere  it  dash  below. 

Campbell's  Gertrude  of  Wyoming. 

303 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

table,  regarded  the  General  with  a  calm  look  of  fearless 
indifference.  The  soldiers  stood  around,  some  holding 
the  torches,  which  illuminated  the  apartment  with  a 
lurid  and  sombre  glare  of  light,  the  others  resting  upon 
their  weapons.  Phoebe,  with  her  hands  folded,  her  eyes 
turned  upwards  till  the  pupils  were  scarce  visible,  and 
every  shade  of  colour  banished  from  her  ruddy  cheek, 
stood  like  one  in  immediate  apprehension  of  the  sen- 
tence of  death  being  pronounced  and  instant  execution 
commanded. 

Heavy  steps  were  at  last  heard,  and  Pearson  and  some 
of  the  soldiers  returned.  This  seemed  to  be  what  Crom- 
well waited  for.  He  started  up,  and  asked  hastily,  'Any 
news,  Pearson?  any  prisoners  —  any  Malignants  slain 
in  thy  defence?' 

'None,  so  please  your  Excellency,'  said  the  officer. 

'And  are  thy  sentinels  all  carefully  placed,  as  Tom- 
kins's  scroll  gave  direction,  and  with  fitting  orders?' 

'With  the  most  deliberate  care,'  said  Pearson. 

'Art  thou  very  sure,'  said  Cromwell,  pulling  him  a 
little  to  one  side,  *  that  this  is  all  well  and  duly  cared 
for?  Bethink  thee  that,  when  we  engage  ourselves  in 
the  private  communications,  all  will  be  lost  should  the 
party  we  look  for  have  the  means  of  dodging  us  by  an 
escape  into  the  more  open  rooms,  and  from  thence  per- 
haps into  the  forest.' 

'My  Lord  General,'  answered  Pearson,  'if  placing  the 
guards  on  the  places  pointed  out  in  this  scroll  be  suf- 
ficient, with  the  strictest  orders  to  stop,  and,  if  neces- 
sary, to  stab  or  shoot,  whoever  crosses  their  post,  such 
orders  are  given  to  men  who  will  not  fail  to  execute  them. 
If  more  is  necessary,  your  Excellency  has  only  to  speak.' 

304 


WOODSTOCK 

'No  —  no  —  no,  Pearson/  said  the  General,  'thou 
hast  done  well.  This  night  over,  and  let  it  end  but  as 
we  hope,  thy  reward  shall  not  be  awanting.  And  now  to 
business.  Sir  Henry  Lee,  undo  me  the  secret  spring  of 
yonder  picture  of  your  ancestor.  Nay,  spare  yourself 
the  trouble  and  guilt  of  falsehood  or  equivocation,  and,  I 
say,  undo  me  that  spring  presently.' 

'When  I  acknowledge  you  for  my  master,  and  wear 
your  livery,  I  may  obey  your  commands,'  answered  the 
knight;  'even  then  I  would  need  first  to  understand 
them.' 

'Wench,'  said  Cromwell,  addressing  Phoebe,  'go  thou 
undo  the  spring:  you  could  do  it  fast  enough  when  you 
aided  at  the  gambols  of  the  demons  of  Woodstock,  and 
terrified  even  Mark  Everard,  who,  I  judged,  had  more 
sense.' 

'Oh,  Lord,  sir,  what  shall  I  do?'  said  Phcebe,  looking 
to  the  knight ; '  they  know  all  about  it.  What  shall  I  do?  * 

*  For  thy  life,  hold  out  to  the  last,  wench !  Every  min- 
ute is  worth  a  million.' 

'Ha!  heard  you  that,  Pearson?'  said  Cromwell  to  the 
officer;  then,  stamping  with  his  foot,  he  added,  'Undo 
the  spring,  or  I  will  else  use  levers  and  wrenching-irons. 
Or,  ha!  another  petard  were  well  bestowed.  Call  the 
engineer.' 

'Oh,  Lord,  sir,'  cried  Phoebe,  'I  shall  never  live 
another  peter:  I  will  open  the  spring.' 

'Do  as  thou  wilt,'  said  Sir  Henry;  'it  shall  profit  them 
but  httle.' 

Whether  from  real  agitation  or  from  a  desire  to  gain 
time,  Phoebe  was  some  minutes  ere  she  could  get  the 
spring  to  open;  it  was  indeed  secured  with  art,  and  the 
38  305 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

machinery  on  which  it  acted  was  concealed  in  the  frame 
of  the  portrait.  The  whole,  when  fastened,  appeared 
quite  motionless,  and  betrayed,  as  when  examined  by 
Colonel  Everard,  no  external  mark  of  its  being  possible 
to  remove  it.  It  was  now  withdrawn,  however,  and 
showed  a  narrow  recess,  with  steps  which  ascended  on 
one  side  into  the  thickness  of  the  wall. 

Cromwell  was  now  like  a  greyhound  slipped  from  the 
leash  with  the  prey  in  full  view.  'Up,'  he  cried,  'Pear- 
son, thou  art  swifter  than  I.  Up  thou  next,  corporal.' 
With  more  agihty  than  could  have  been  expected  from 
his  person  or  years,  which  were  past  the  meridian  of  life, 
and  exclaiming,  'Before,  those  with  the  torches!'  he  fol- 
lowed the  party,  like  an  eager  huntsman  in  the  rear  of 
his  hounds,  to  encourage  at  once  and  direct  them,  as 
they  penetrated  into  the  labyrinth  described  by  Dr. 
Rochechffe,  in  the  'Wonders  of  Woodstock.' 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 


The  king,  therefore,  for  his  defence 

Against  the  furious  queen. 
At  Woodstock  builded  such  a  bower 

As  never  yet  was  seen. 
Most  curiously  that  bower  was  built. 

Of  stone  and  timijer  strong; 
An  hundred  and  fifty  doors 

Did  to  this  bower  belong: 
And  they  so  cunningly  contrived, 

With  turnings  round  about. 
That  none  but  with  a  clew  of  thread 

Could  enter  in  or  out. 


Ballad  of  Fair  Rosamond. 

The  tradition  of  the  country,  as  well  as  some  historical 
evidence,  confirmed  the  opinion  that  there  existed 
within  the  old  royal  lodge  at  Woodstock,  a  labyrinth, 
or  connected  series  of  subterranean  passages,  built 
chiefly  by  Henry  II  for  the  security  of  his  mistress,  Rosa- 
mond Clifi'ord,  from  the  jealousy  of  his  queen,  the  cele- 
brated Eleanor.  Dr.  Rochecliffe,  indeed,  in  one  of  those 
fits  of  contradiction  with  which  antiquaries  are  some- 
times seized,  was  bold  enough  to  dispute  the  alleged 
purpose  of  the  perplexed  maze  of  rooms  and  passages 
with  which  the  walls  of  the  ancient  palace  were  perfor- 
ated; but  the  fact  was  undeniable,  that  in  raising  the 
fabric  some  Norman  architect  had  exerted  the  utmost 
of  the  complicated  art  which  they  have  often  shown  else- 
where, in  creating  secret  passages  and  chambers  of  re- 
treat and  concealment.  There  were  stairs  which  were 
ascended  merely,  as  it  seemed,  for  the  purpose  of  de- 
scending again;  passages  which,  after  turning  and  wind- 

307 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

ing  for  a  considerable  way,  returned  to  the  place  where 
they  set  out;  there  were  trap-doors  and  hatchways, 
panels  and  portcullises.  Although  OHver  was  assisted 
by  a  sort  of  ground-plan,  made  out  and  transmitted 
by  Joseph  Tomkins,  whose  former  employment  in  Dr. 
Rochecliffe's  service  had  made  him  fully  acquainted 
with  the  place,  it  was  found  imperfect;  and,  moreover, 
the  most  serious  obstacles  to  their  progress  occurred  in 
the  shape  of  strong  doors,  party- walls,  and  iron  grates; 
so  that  the  party  blundered  on  in  the  dark,  uncertain 
whether  they  were  not  going  farther  from,  rather  than 
approaching,  the  extremity  of  the  labyrinth.  They 
were  obliged  to  send  for  mechanics,  with  sledge-ham- 
mers and  other  instruments,  to  force  one  or  two  of  those 
doors,  which  resisted  all  other  means  of  undoing  them. 
Labouring  along  in  these  dusky  passages,  where,  from 
time  to  time,  they  were  like  to  be  choked  by  the  dust 
which  their  acts  of  violence  excited,  the  soldiers  were 
obliged  to  be  relieved  of  tener  than  once,  and  the  bulky 
Corporal  Grace-be-here  himself  puffed  and  blew  like  a 
grampus  that  has  got  into  shoal  water.  Cromwell  alone 
continued,  with  unabated  zeal,  to  push  on  his  researches; 
to  encourage  the  soldiers,  by  the  exhortations  which  they 
best  understood,  against  fainting  for  lack  of  faith;  and 
to  secure,  by  sentinels  at  proper  places,  possession  of  the 
ground  which  they  had  already  explored.  His  acute  and 
observing  eye  detected,  with  a  sneering  smile,  the  cord- 
age and  machinery  by  which  the  bed  of  poor  Desbor- 
ough  had  been  inverted,  and  several  remains  of  the  var- 
ious disguises,  as  well  as  private  modes  of  access,  by 
which  Desborough,  Bletson,  and  Harrison  had  been 
previously  imposed  upon.    He  pointed  them  out  to 

308 


WOODSTOCK 

Pearson,  with  no  further  comment  than  was  implied  in 
the  exclamation,  '  The  simple  fools ! ' 

But  his  assistants  began  to  lose  heart,  and  be  discour- 
aged, and  required  all  his  spirit  to  raise  theirs.  He  then 
called  their  attention  to  voices  which  they  seemed  to 
hear  before  them,  and  urged  these  as  evidence  that  they 
were  moving  on  the  track  of  some  enemy  of  the  Com- 
monwealth, who,  for  the  execution  of  his  Malignant 
plots,  had  retreated  into  these  extraordinary  fastnesses. 

The  spirits  of  the  men  became  at  last  downcast  not- 
withstanding all  this  encouragement.  They  spoke  to 
each  other  in  whispers  of  the  devils  of  Woodstock,  who 
might  be  all  the  while  decoying  them  forward  to  a  room 
said  to  exist  in  the  palace,  where  the  floor,  revolving  on 
an  axis,  precipitated  those  who  entered  into  a  bottomless 
abyss.  Humgudgeon  hinted,  that  he  had  consulted  the 
Scripture  that  morning  by  way  of  lot,  and  his  fortune 
had  been  to  alight  on  the  passage, '  Eutychus  fell  down 
from  the  third  loft.'  The  energy  and  authority  of  Crom- 
well, however,  and  the  refreshment  of  some  food  and 
strong  waters,  reconciled  them  to  pursuing  their  task. 

Nevertheless,  with  all  their  unwearied  exertions, 
morning  dawned  on  the  search  before  they  had  reached 
Dr.  Rochecliffe's  sitting-apartment,  into  which,  after 
all,  they  obtained  entrance  by  a  mode  much  more  diffi- 
cult than  that  which  the  Doctor  himself  employed. 
But  here  their  ingenuity  was  long  at  fault.  From  the 
miscellaneous  articles  that  were  strewed  around,  and  the 
preparations  made  for  food  and  lodging,  it  seemed  they 
had  gained  the  very  citadel  of  the  labyrinth ;  but  though 
various  passages  opened  from  it,  they  all  terminated  in 
places  with  which  they  were  already  acquainted,  or  com- 

309 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

municated  with  the  other  parts  of  the  house,  where  their 
own  sentinels  assured  them  none  had  passed.  Cromwell 
remained  long  in  deep  uncertainty.  Meantime  he  di- 
rected Pearson  to  take  charge  of  the  ciphers  and  more 
important  papers,  which  lay  on  the  table.  'Though 
there  is  httle  there,'  he  said,  'that  I  have  not  already 
known,  by  means  of  Trusty  Tomkins.  Honest  Joseph, 
for  an  artful  and  thorough-paced  agent,  the  like  of  thee 
is  not  left  in  England.' 

After  a  considerable  pause,  during  which  he  sounded 
with  the  pommel  of  his  sword  almost  every  stone  in  the 
building  and  every  plank  on  the  floor,  the  General  gave 
orders  to  bring  the  old  knight  and  Dr.  Rochechffe  to  the 
spot,  trusting  that  he  might  work  out  of  them  some 
explanation  of  the  secrets  of  this  apartment. 

'So  please  your  Excellency  to  let  me  to  deal  with 
them,'  said  Pearson,  who  was  a  true  soldier  of  fortune, 
and  had  been  a  buccanier  in  the  West  Indies,  '  I  think 
that,  by  a  whipcord  twitched  tight  round  their  forehead, 
and  twisted  about  with  a  pistol-butt,  I  could  make  either 
the  truth  start  from  their  lips  or  the  eyes  from  their 
head.' 

'Out  upon  thee,  Pearson!'  said  Cromwell,  with  ab- 
horrence; 'we  have  no  warrant  for  such  cruelty,  neither 
as  EngHshmen  nor  Christians.  We  may  slay  Malignants 
as  we  crush  noxious  animals,  but  to  torture  them  is  a 
deadly  sin;  for  it  is  written,  "He  made  them  to  be  pitied 
of  those  who  carried  them  captive."  Nay,  I  recall  the 
order  even  for  their  examination,  trusting  that  wisdom 
will  be  granted  us  without  it,  to  discover  their  most 
secret  devices.' 

There  was  a  pause  accordingly,  during  which  an  idea 

310 


WOODSTOCK 

seized  upon  Cromwell's  imagination.  '  Bring  me  hither/ 
he  said, '  yonder  stool ' ;  and  placing  it  beneath  one  of  the 
windows,  of  which  there  were  two  so  high  in  the  wall 
as  not  to  be  accessible  from  the  floor,  he  clambered  up 
into  the  entrance  of  the  window,  which  was  six  or  seven 
feet  deep,  corresponding  with  the  thickness  of  the  wall. 
*Come  up  hither,  Pearson,'  said  the  General;  'but  ere 
thou  comest,  double  the  guard  at  the  foot  of  the  turret 
called  Love's  Ladder,  and  bid  them  bring  up  the  other 
petard.   So  now,  come  thou  hither.' 

The  inferior  officer,  however  brave  in  the  field,  was 
one  of  those  whom  a  great  height  strikes  with  giddiness 
and  sickness.  He  shrunk  back  from  the  view  of  the  prec- 
ipice, on  the  verge  of  which  Cromwell  was  standing  with 
complete  indifiference,  till  the  General,  catching  the 
hand  of  his  follower,  pulled  him  forward  as  far  as  he 
would  advance.  *I  think,'  said  the  General,  'I  have 
found  the  clue,  but  by  this  light  it  is  no  easy  one.  See 
you,  we  stand  in  the  portal  near  the  top  of  Rosamond's 
Tower;  and  yon  turret  which  rises  opposite  to  our  feet 
is  that  which  is  called  Love's  Ladder,  from  which  the 
drawbridge  reached  that  admitted  the  profligate  Nor- 
man tyrant  to  the  bower  of  his  mistress.' 

'True,  my  lord,  but  the  drawbridge  is  gone,'  said 
Pearson. 

*Ay,  Pearson,'  replied  the  General;  'but  an  active 
man  might  spring  from  the  spot  we  stand  upon  to  the 
battlements  of  yonder  turret.' 

'I  do  not  think  so,  my  lord,'  said  Pearson. 

'What!'  said  Cromwell;  'not  if  the  avenger  of  blood 
were  behind  you,  with  his  slaughter-weapon  in  his 
hand?' 

311 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

*The  fear  of  instant  death  might  do  much,'  answered 
Pearson;  'but  when  I  look  at  that  sheer  depth  on  either 
side,  and  at  the  empty  chasm  between  us  and  yonder 
turret,  which  is,  I  warrant  you,  twelve  feet  distant,  I 
confess  the  truth,  nothing  short  of  the  most  imminent 
danger  should  induce  me  to  try.  Pah,  the  thought  makes 
my  head  grow  giddy !  I  tremble  to  see  your  Highness 
stand  there,  balancing  yourself  as  if  you  meditated  a 
spring  into  the  empty  air.  I  repeat,  I  would  scarce 
stand  so  near  the  verge  as  does  your  Highness,  for  the 
rescue  of  my  life.' 

'Ah,  base  and  degenerate  spirit!'  said  the  General  — 
'soul  of  mud  and  clay,  wouldst  thou  not  do  it,  and  much 
more,  for  the  possession  of  empire?  That  is,  peradven- 
ture,'  continued  he,  changing  his  tone  as  one  who  has 
said  too  much,  'shouldst  thou  be  called  on  to  do  this, 
that  thereby  becoming  a  great  man  in  the  tribes  of 
Israel,  thou  mightest  redeem  the  captivity  of  Jerusalem 
—  ay,  and  it  may  be,  work  some  great  work  for  the 
afflicted  people  of  this  land? ' 

'Your  Highness  may  feel  such  calls,'  said  the  officer; 
'but  they  are  not  for  poor  Gilbert  Pearson,  your  faithful 
follower.  You  made  a  jest  of  me  yesterday  when  I  tried 
to  speak  your  language ;  and  I  am  no  more  able  to  fulfil 
your  designs  than  to  use  your  mode  of  speech.' 

'But,  Pearson,'  said  Cromwell,  'thou  hast  thrice,  yea, 
four  times,  called  me  "your  Highness."' 

'  Did  I,  my  lord?  I  was  not  sensible  of  it.  I  crave  your 
pardon,'  said  the  officer. 

'Nay,'  said  Oliver, '  there  was  no  offence.  I  do  indeed 
stand  high,  and  I  may  perchance  stand  higher,  though, 
alas!  it  were  fitter  for  a  simple  soul  Hke  me  to  return  to 

312 


WOODSTOCK 

my  plough  and  my  husbandry.  Nevertheless,  I  will  not 
wrestle  against  the  Supreme  will,  should  I  be  called  on  to 
do  yet  more  in  that  worthy  cause.  For  surely  He  who 
hath  been  to  our  British  Israel  as  a  shield  of  help  and  a 
sword  of  excellency,  making  her  enemies  be  found  liars 
unto  her,  will  not  give  over  the  flock  to  those  foolish 
shepherds  of  Westminster,  who  shear  the  sheep  and  feed 
them  not,  and  who  are  in  very  deed  hirelings,  not 
shepherds.' 

'I  trust  to  see  your  lordship  quoit  them  all  down- 
stairs,' answered  Pearson.  'But  may  I  ask  why  we  pur- 
sue this  discourse  even  now,  until  we  have  secured  the 
common  enemy? ' 

'I  will  tarry  no  jot  of  time,'  said  the  General;  'fence 
the  communication  of  Love's  Ladder,  as  it  is  called, 
below,  as  I  take  it  for  almost  certain  that  the  party 
whom  we  have  driven  from  fastness  to  fastness  during 
the  night  has  at  length  sprung  to  the  top  of  yonder  bat- 
tlements from  the  place  where  we  now  stand.  Finding 
the  turret  is  guarded  below,  the  place  he  has  chosen  for 
his  security  will  prove  a  rat  trap,  from  whence  there  is 
no  returning.' 

'There  is  a  cask  of  gunpowder  in  this  cabinet,'  said 
Pearson;  'were  it  not  better,  my  lord,  to  mine  the  tower, 
if  he  will  not  render  himself,  and  send  the  whole  turret 
with  its  contents  one  hundred  feet  into  the  air? ' 

'Ah,  silly  man,'  said  Cromwell,  striking  him  familiarly 
on  the  shoulder,  '  if  thou  hadst  done  this  without  telling 
me,  it  had  been  good  service.  But  we  will  first  summon 
the  turret,  and  then  think  whether  the  petard  will  serve 
our  turn:  it  is  but  mining  at  last.  Blow  a  summons 
there,  down  below.' 

313 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

The  trumpets  rang  at  his  bidding,  till  the  old  walls 
echoed  from  every  recess  and  vaulted  archway.  Crom- 
well, as  if  he  cared  not  to  look  upon  the  person  whom 
he  expected  to  appear,  drew  back,  like  a  necromancer 
afraid  of  the  spectre  which  he  has  evoked. 

*He  has  come  to  the  battlement,'  said  Pearson  to  his 
General. 

*In  what  dress  or  appearance?'  answered  Cromwell 
from  within  the  chamber. 

*A  grey  riding-suit,  passmen  ted  with  silver,  russet 
walking-boots,  a  cut  band,  a  grey  hat  and  plume,  black 
hair.' 

*It  is  he  —  it  is  he,'  said  Cromwell,  'and  another 
crowning  mercy  is  vouchsafed.' 

Meantime,  Pearson  and  young  Lee  exchanged  defi- 
ance from  their  respective  posts. 

'Surrender,'  said  the  former,  'or  we  blow  you  up  in 
your  fastness.' 

'I  am  come  of  too  high  a  race  to  surrender  to  rebels,' 
said  Albert,  assuming  the  air  with  which,  in  such  a 
condition,  a  king  might  have  spoken. 

'I  bear  you  to  witness,'  cried  Cromwell,  exultingly, 
*  he  hath  refused  quarter.  Of  a  surety,  his  blood  be  on  his 
head.  One  of  you  bring  down  the  barrel  of  powder.  As 
he  loves  to  soar  high,  we  will  add  what  can  be  taken  from 
the  soldiers'  bandoleers.  Come  with  me,  Pearson;  thou 
understandest  this  gear.  Corporal  Grace-be-here,  stand 
thou  fast  on  the  platform  of  the  window,  where  Captain 
Pearson  and  I  stood  but  even  now,  and  bend  the  point  of 
thy  partizan  against  any  who  shall  attempt  to  pass. 
Thou  art  as  strong  as  a  bull,  and  I  will  back  thee  against 
despair  itself.' 

314 


WOODSTOCK 

'But,'  said  the  corporal,  mounting  reluctantly,  'the 
place  is  as  the  pinnacle  of  the  Temple;  and  it  is  written, 
that  Eutychus  fell  down  from  the  third  loft  and  was 
taken  up  dead.' 

'Because  he  slept  upon  his  post,'  answered  Cromwell, 
readily.  '  Beware  thou  of  carelessness,  and  thus  thy  feet 
shall  be  kept  from  stumbling.  You  four  soldiers,  remain 
here  to  support  the  corporal,  if  it  be  necessary;  and  you, 
as  well  as  the  corporal,  will  draw  into  the  vaulted  pass- 
age the  minute  the  trumpets  sound  a  retreat.  It  is  as 
strong  as  a  casemate,  and  you  may  he  there  safe  from 
the  effects  of  the  mine.  Thou,  Zerubbabel  Robins,  I 
know,  wilt  be  their  lance-prisade.' 

Robins  bowed,  and  the  General  departed  to  join  those 
who  were  without. 

As  he  reached  the  door  of  the  hall,  the  petard  was 
heard  to  explode,  and  he  saw  that  it  had  succeeded;  for 
the  soldiers  rushed,  brandishing  their  swords  and  pistols, 
in  at  the  postern  of  the  turret,  whose  gate  had  been 
successfully  forced.  A  thrill  of  exultation,  but  not  un- 
mingled  with  horror,  shot  across  the  veins  of  the  ambi- 
tious soldier. 

'Now — now,'  he  cried,  'they  are  dealing  with 
him!' 

His  expectations  were  deceived.  Pearson  and  the 
others  returned  disappointed,  and  reported  they  had 
been  stopt  by  a  strong  trap-door  of  grated  iron,  extended 
over  the  narrow  stair;  and  they  could  see  there  was  an 
obstacle  of  the  same  kind  some  ten  feet  higher.  To  re- 
move it  by  force,  while  a  desperate  and  well-armed  man 
had  the  advantage  of  the  steps  above  them,  might  cost 
many  Uves.  'Which,  lack-a-day,'  said  the  General,  'it  is 

315 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

our  duty  to  be  tender  of.  What  dost  thou  advise,  Gilbert 
Pearson? ' 

'We  must  use  powder,  my  lord/  answered  Pearson, 
who  saw  his  master  was  too  modest  to  reserve  to  himself 
the  whole  merit  of  the  proceeding:  'there  may  be  a 
chamber  easily  and  conveniently  formed  under  the  foot 
of  the  stair.  We  have  a  sausage,  by  good  luck,  to  form 
the  train,  and  so  — ' 

'  Ah ! '  said  Cromwell, '  I  know  thou  canst  manage  such 
gear  well.  But,  Gilbert,  I  go  to  visit  the  posts,  and  give 
them  orders  to  retire  to  a  safe  distance  when  the  retreat 
is  sounded.  You  will  allow  them  five  minutes  for  this 
purpose.' 

'Three  is  enough  for  any  knave  of  them  all,'  said 
Pearson.  'They  will  be  lame  indeed,  that  require  more 
on  such  a  service.  I  ask  but  one,  though  I  fire  the  train 
myself.' 

'Take  heed,'  said  Cromwell,  'that  the  poor  soul  be 
listened  to,  if  he  asks  quarter.  It  may  be,  he  may  repent 
him  of  his  hardheartedness,  and  call  for  mercy.' 

'And  mercy  he  shall  have,'  answered  Pearson,  'pro- 
vided he  calls  loud  enough  to  make  me  hear  him ;  for  the 
explosion  of  that  damned  petard  has  made  me  as  deaf  as 
the  devil's  dam.' 

'Hush,  Gilbert  —  hush!'  said  Cromwell;  'you  offend 
in  your  language.' 

'Zooks,  sir,  I  must  speak  either  in  your  way  or  in  my 
own,'  said  Pearson,  'unless  I  am  to  be  dumb  as  well  as 
deaf.  Away  with  you,  my  lord,  to  visit  the  posts;  and 
you  will  presently  hear  me  make  some  noise  in  the 
world.' 

Cromwell  smiled  gently  at  his  aide-de-camp's  petu- 
316 


WOODSTOCK 

lance,  patted  him  on  the  shoulder,  and  called  him  a  mad 
fellow,  walked  a  little  way,  then  turned  back  to  whisper, 
'What  thou  dost,  do  quickly';  then  returned  again  to- 
wards the  outer  circle  of  guards,  turning  his  head  from 
time  to  time,  as  if  to  assure  himself  that  the  corporal,  to 
whom  he  had  entrusted  the  duty,  still  kept  guard  with 
his  advanced  weapon  upon  the  terrific  chasm  between 
Rosamond's  Tower  and  the  corresponding  turret.  See- 
ing him  standing  on  his  post,  the  General  muttered 
between  his  mustaches,  'The  fellow  hath  the  strength 
and  courage  of  a  bear;  and  yonder  is  a  post  where  one 
shall  do  more  to  keep  back  than  an  hundred  in  making 
way.'  He  cast  a  last  look  on  the  gigantic  figure,  who 
stood  in  that  airy  position  like  some  Gothic  statue,  the 
weapon  half  levelled  against  the  opposite  turret,  with 
the  butt  rested  against  his  right  foot,  his  steel  cap  and 
burnished  corslet  glittering  in  the  rising  sun. 

Cromwell  then  passed  on  to  give  the  necessary  orders, 
that  such  sentinels  as  might  be  endangered  at  their  pre- 
sent posts  by  the  effect  of  the  mine  should  mthdraw  at 
the  sound  of  the  trumpet  to  the  places  which  he  pointed 
out  to  them.  Never,  on  any  occasion  of  his  life,  did  he 
display  more  calmness  and  presence  of  mind.  He  was 
kind,  nay,  facetious,  with  the  soldiers,  who  adored  him; 
and  yet  he  resembled  a  volcano  before  the  eruption 
commences  —  all  peaceful  and  quiet  without,  while  an 
hundred  contradictory  passions  were  raging  in  his  bosom. 

Corporal  Humgudgeon,  meanwhile,  remained  steady 
upon  his  post;  yet,  though  as  determined  a  soldier  as 
ever  fought  among  the  redoubted  regiment  of  Ironsides, 
and  possessed  of  no  small  share  of  that  exalted  fanati- 
cism which  lent  so  keen  an  edge  to  the  natural  courage  of 

317 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

those  stem  religionists,  the  veteran  felt  his  present  sit- 
uation to  be  highly  uncomfortable.  Within  a  pike's 
length  of  him  arose  a  turret,  which  was  about  to  be  dis- 
persed in  massive  fragments  through  the  air;  and  he  felt 
small  confidence  in  the  length  of  time  which  might  be 
allowed  for  his  escape  from  such  a  dangerous  vicinity. 
The  duty  of  constant  vigilance  upon  his  post  was  partly 
divided  by  this  natural  feeling,  which  induced  him  from 
time  to  time  to  bend  his  eyes  on  the  miners  below,  in- 
stead of  keeping  them  riveted  on  the  opposite  turret. 

At  length  the  interest  of  the  scene  arose  to  the  ut- 
termost. After  entering  and  returning  from  the  turret, 
and  coming  out  again  more  than  once,  in  the  course  of 
about  twenty  minutes,  Pearson  issued,  as  it  might  be 
supposed,  for  the  last  time,  carrying  in  his  hand,  and 
uncoiling  as  he  went  along,  the  sausage,  or  linen  bag  (so 
called  from  its  appearance),  which,  strongly  sewed  to- 
gether and  crammed  with  gunpowder,  was  to  serve  as  a 
train  betwixt  the  mine  to  be  sprung  and  the  point  occu- 
pied by  the  engineer  who  was  to  give  fire.  He  was  in  the 
act  of  finally  adjusting  it,  when  the  attention  of  the  cor- 
poral on  the  tower  became  irresistibly  and  exclusively 
riveted  upon  the  preparations  for  the  explosion.  But, 
while  he  watched  the  aide-de-camp  drawing  his  pistol  to 
give  fire,  and  the  trumpeter  handHng  his  instrument,  as 
waiting  the  order  to  sound  the  retreat,  fate  rushed  on 
the  unhappy  sentinel  in  a  way  he  least  expected. 

Young,  active,  bold,  and  completely  possessed  of  his 
presence  of  mind,  Albert  Lee,  who  had  been  from  the 
loopholes  a  watchful  observer  of  every  measure  which 
had  been  taken  by  his  besiegers,  had  resolved  to  make 
one  desperate  effort  for  self-preservation.    While  the 

318 


WOODSTOCK 

head  of  the  sentinel  on  the  opposite  platform  was  turned 
from  him,  and  bent  rather  downwards,  he  suddenly 
sprung  across  the  chasm,  though  the  space  on  which  he 
lighted  was  scarce  wide  enough  for  two  persons,  threw 
the  surprised  soldier  from  his  precarious  stand,  and 
jumped  himself  down  into  the  chamber.  The  gigantic 
trooper  went  sheer  down  twenty  feet,  struck  against 
a  projecting  battlement,  which  launched  the  wretched 
man  outwards,  and  then  fell  on  the  earth  with  such  tre- 
mendous force,  that  the  head,  which  first  touched  the 
ground,  dinted  a  hole  in  the  soil  of  six  inches  in  depth, 
and  was  crushed  like  an  egg-shell.  Scarce  knowing  what 
had  happened,  yet  startled  and  confounded  at  the  de- 
scent of  this  heavy  body,  which  fell  at  no  great  distance 
from  him,  Pearson  snapt  his  pistol  at  the  train,  no  pre- 
vious warning  given,  the  powder  caught,  and  the  mine 
exploded.  Had  it  been  strongly  charged  with  powder, 
many  of  those  without  might  have  suffered;  but  the 
explosion  was  only  powerful  enough  to  blow  out,  in  a 
lateral  direction,  a  part  of  the  wall  just  above  the  found- 
ation, sufficient,  however,  to  destroy  the  equipoise  of 
the  building.  Then,  amid  a  cloud  of  smoke,  which 
began  gradually  to  encircle  the  turret  hke  a  shroud, 
arising  slowly  from  its  base  to  its  summit,  it  was  seen  to 
stagger  and  shake  by  all  who  had  courage  to  look  stead- 
ily at  a  sight  so  dreadful.  Slowly,  at  first,  the  building 
inclined  outwards,  then  rushed  precipitately  to  its  base, 
and  fell  to  the  ground  in  huge  fragments,  the  strength  of 
its  resistance  showing  the  excellence  of  the  mason-work. 
The  engineer,  so  soon  as  he  had  fired  the  train,  fled 
in  such  alarm  that  he  wellnigh  ran  against  his  General, 
who  was  advancing  towards  him,  while  a  huge  stone 

319 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

from  the  summit  of  the  building,  flying  farther  than  the 
rest,  Hghted  within  a  yard  of  them. 

'Thou  hast  been  over-hasty,  Pearson,'  said  Cromwell, 
with  the  greatest  composure  possible;  'hath  no  one 
fallen  in  that  same  tower  of  Siloe?' 

*Some  one  fell,'  said  Pearson,  still  in  great  agitation, 
*and  yonder  lies  his  body  half  buried  in  the  rubbish.' 

With  a  quick  and  resolute  step,  Cromwell  approached 
the  spot,  and  exclaimed,  'Pearson,  thou  hast  ruined  me: 
the  Young  Man  hath  escaped.  This  is  our  own  sentinel, 
plague  on  the  idiot !  Let  him  rot  beneath  the  ruins  which 
crushed  him ! ' 

A  cry  now  resounded  from  the  platform  of  Rosa- 
mond's Tower,  which  appeared  yet  taller  than  formerly, 
deprived  of  the  neighbouring  turret,  which  emulated 
though  it  did  not  attain  to  its  height  —  'A  prisoner, 
noble  General  —  a  prisoner !  The  fox  whom  we  have 
chased  all  night  is  now  in  the  snare:  the  Lord  hath 
delivered  him  into  the  hand  of  His  servants.' 

'Look  you  keep  him  in  safe  custody,'  exclaimed 
Cromwell,  '  and  bring  him  presently  down  to  the  apart- 
ment from  which  the  secret  passages  have  their  principal 
entrance.' 

'Your  Excellency  shall  be  obeyed.' 

The  proceedings  of  Albert  Lee,  to  which  these  exclam- 
ations related,  had  been  unfortunate.  He  had  dashed 
from  the  platform,  as  we  have  related,  the  gigantic 
strength  of  the  soldier  opposed  to  him,  and  had  instantly 
jumped  down  into  Rochecliffe's  chamber.  But  the  sol- 
diers stationed  there  threw  themselves  upon  him,  and 
after  a  struggle,  which  was  hopelessly  maintained 
against  such  advantage  of  numbers,  had  thrown  the 

320 


WOODSTOCK 

young  Cavalier  to  the  ground,  two  of  them,  drawn  down 
by  his  strenuous  exertions,  falling  across  him.  At  the 
same  moment  a  sharp  and  severe  report  was  heard, 
which,  like  a  clap  of  thunder  in  the  immediate  vicinity, 
shook  all  around  them,  till  the  strong  and  solid  tower 
tottered  like  the  mast  of  a  stately  vessel  when  about  to 
part  by  the  board.  In  a  few  seconds,  this  was  followed 
by  another  sullen  sound,  at  first  low  and  deep,  but  aug- 
menting like  the  roar  of  a  cataract,  as  it  descends,  reel- 
ing, bellowing,  and  rushing,  as  if  to  astound  both  heaven 
and  earth.  So  awful,  indeed,  was  the  soimd  of  the  neigh- 
bour tower  as  it  fell,  that  both  the  captive  and  those  who 
struggled  with  him  continued  for  a  minute  or  two  pas- 
sive in  each  other's  grasp. 

Albert  was  the  first  who  recovered  consciousness  and 
activity.  He  shook  ofif  those  who  lay  above  him,  and 
made  a  desperate  effort  to  gain  his  feet,  in  which  he 
partly  succeeded.  But  as  he  had  to  deal  with  men  accus- 
tomed to  every  species  of  danger,  and  whose  energies 
were  recovered  nearly  as  soon  as  his  own,  he  was  com- 
pletely secured,  and  his  arms  held  down.  Loyal  and 
faithful  to  his  trust,  and  resolved  to  sustain  to  the  last 
the  character  which  he  had  assumed,  he  exclaimed,  as 
his  struggles  were  finally  overpowered,  'Rebel  villains! 
would  you  slay  your  king? ' 

'Ha,  heard  you  that?'  cried  one  of  the  soldiers  to  the 
lance-prisade,  who  commanded  the  party.  *  Shall  I  not 
strike  this  son  of  a  wicked  father  under  the  fifth  rib,  even 
as  the  tyrant  of  Moab  was  smitten  by  Ehud  with  a  dag- 
ger of  a  cubit's  length?' 

But  Robins  answered,  *Be  it  far  from  us,  Merciful 
Strickalthrow,  to  slay  in  cold  blood  the  captive  of  our 
S8  321 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

bow  and  of  our  spear.  Methinks,  since  the  storm  of 
Tredagh  ^  we  have  shed  enough  of  blood;  therefore,  on 
your  Uves  do  him  no  evil,  but  take  from  him  his  arms, 
and  let  us  bring  him  before  the  chosen  instrument,  even 
our  General,  that  he  may  do  with  him  what  is  meet  in 
his  eyes.' 

By  this  time  the  soldier  whose  exultation  had  made 
him  the  first  to  communicate  the  intelligence  from  the 
battlements  to  Cromwell  returned,  and  brought  com- 
mands corresponding  to  the  orders  of  their  temporary 
oflScer;  and  Albert  Lee,  disarmed  and  bound,  was  con- 
ducted as  a  captive  into  the  apartment  which  derived  its 
name  from  the  victories  of  his  ancestor,  and  placed  in  the 
presence  of  General  Cromwell. 

Running  over  in  his  mind  the  time  which  had  elapsed 
since  the  departure  of  Charles  till  the  siege,  if  it  may  be 
termed  so,  had  terminated  in  his  own  capture,  Albert 
had  every  reason  to  hope  that  his  royal  master  must 
have  had  time  to  accomplish  his  escape.  Yet  he  deter- 
mined to  maintain  to  the  last  a  deceit  which  might  for  a 
time  ensure  the  King's  safety.  The  difference  betwixt 
them  could  not,  he  thought,  be  instantly  discovered, 
begrimed  as  he  was  with  dust  and  smoke,  and  with 
blood  issuing  from  some  scratches  received  in  the  scufile. 

In  this  evil  plight,  but  bearing  himself  with  such  dig- 
nity as  was  adapted  to  the  princely  character,  Albert 
was  ushered  into  the  apartment  of  Victor  Lee,  where,  in 
his  father's  own  chair,  reclined  the  triumphant  enemy  of 
the  cause  to  which  the  house  of  Lee  had  been  heredi- 
tarily faithful. 

»  See  Note  8. 


CHAPTER  XXXV 


A  borrowed  title  hast  thou  bought  too  dear. 
Why  didst  thou  tell  me  that  thou  wort  a  king? 

Henry  IV,  Part  I. 


Oliver  Cromwell  arose  from  his  seat  as  the  two  vet- 
eran soldiers,  Zerubbabel  Robins  and  Merciful  Strickal- 
throw,  introduced  into  the  apartment  the  prisoner, 
whom  they  held  by  the  arms,  and  fixed  his  stern  hazel 
eye  on  Albert  long  before  he  could  give  vent  to  the  ideas 
which  were  swelling  in  his  bosom.  Exultation  was  the 
most  predominant. 

'Art  not  thou,'  he  at  length  said,  'that  Egyptian 
which,  before  these  days,  madest  an  uproar,  and  leddest 
out  into  the  wilderness  many  thousand  men,  who  were 
murderers?  Ha,  youth!  I  have  hunted  thee  from  Stirl- 
ing to  Worcester,  from  Worcester  to  Woodstock,  and 
we  have  met  at  last.' 

*I  would,'  replied  Albert,  speaking  in  the  character 
which  he  had  assumed,  'that  we  had  met  where  I  could 
have  shown  thee  the  difference  betwixt  a  rightful  king 
and  an  ambitious  usurper!' 

'Go  to,  young  man,'  said  Cromwell;  'say  rather  the 
difference  between  a  judge  raised  up  for  the  redemption 
of  England  and  the  son  of  those  kings  whom  the  Lord  in 
His  anger  permitted  to  reign  over  her.  But  we  will  not 
waste  useless  words.  God  knows  that  it  is  not  of  our 
will  that  we  are  called  to  such  high  matters,  being  as 
humble  in  our  thoughts  as  we  are  of  ourselves,  and  in 

323 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

our  unassisted  nature  frail  and  foolish,  and  unable  to 
render  a  reason  but  for  the  better  spirit  within  us,  which 
is  not  of  us.  Thou  art  weary,  young  man,  and  thy  nature 
requires  rest  and  refection,  being  doubtless  dealt  with 
dehcately,  as  one  who  hath  fed  on  the  fat  and  drunk  of 
the  sweet,  and  who  hath  been  clothed  in  purple  and  fine 
linen.' 

Here  the  General  suddenly  stopt,  and  then  abruptly 
exclaimed  —  *  But  is  this  —  Ah !  whom  have  we  here? 
These  are  not  the  locks  of  the  swarthy  lad  Charles  Stuart. 
A  cheat  —  a  cheat!' 

Albert  hastily  cast  his  eyes  on  a  mirror  which  stood  in 
the  room,  and  perceived  that  a  dark  peruke,  found  among 
Dr.  Rochecliffe's  miscellaneous  wardrobe,  had  been  dis- 
ordered in  the  scufHe  with  the  soldiery,  and  that  his  own 
light  brown  hair  was  escaping  from  beneath  it. 

*Who  is  this?'  said  Cromwell,  stamping  with  fury. 
*  Pluck  the  disguise  from  him!' 

The  soldiers  did  so ;  and  bringing  him  at  the  same  time 
towards  the  light,  the  deception  could  not  be  maintained 
for  a  moment  longer,  with  any  possibility  of  success. 
Cromwell  came  up  to  him  with  his  teeth  set,  and  grind- 
ing against  each  other  as  he  spoke,  his  hands  clenched, 
and  trembling  with  emotion,  and  speaking  with  a  voice 
low-pitched,  bitterly  and  deeply  emphatic,  such  as  might 
have  preceded  a  stab  with  his  dagger. 

'Thy  name,  young  man?' 

He  was  answered  calmly  and  firmly,  while  the  coun- 
tenance of  the  speaker  wore  a  cast  of  triumph,  and 
even  contempt  — 

'Albert  Lee  of  Ditchley,  a  faithful  subject  of  King 
Charles.' 

324 


WOODSTOCK 

*I  might  have  guessed  it,'  said  Cromwell.  'Ay,  and 
to  King  Charles  shalt  thou  go,  as  soon  as  it  is  noon  on 
the  dial.  Pearson,'  he  continued,  'let  him  be  carried 
to  the  others;  and  let  them  be  executed  at  twelve  ex- 
actly.' 

'All,  sir?'  said  Pearson,  surprised;  for  Cromwell, 
though  he  at  times  made  formidable  examples,  was,  in 
general,  by  no  means  sanguinary. 

*i4//,'  repeated  Cromwell,  fixing  his  eye  on  young  Lee. 
*Yes,  young  sir,  your  conduct  has  devoted  to  death  thy 
father,  thy  kinsman,  and  the  stranger  that  was  in  thine 
household.  Such  wreck  hast  thou  brought  on  thy  father's 
house.' 

*My  father,  too  —  my  aged  father!'  said  Albert,  look- 
ing upward,  and  endeavouring  to  raise  his  hands  in  the 
same  direction,  which  was  prevented  by  his  bonds.  '  The 
Lord's  will  be  done!' 

*A11  this  havoc  can  be  saved  if,'  said  the  General, 
*  thou  wilt  answer  one  question  —  Where  is  the  young 
Charles  Stuart,  who  was  called  King  of  Scotland  ?' 

*  Under  Heaven's  protection,  and  safe  from  thy  power,' 
was  the  firm  and  unhesitating  answer  of  the  young 
Royalist. 

'  Away  with  him  to  prison ! '  said  Cromwell ; '  and  from 
thence  to  execution  with  the  rest  of  them,  as  Malignants 
taken  in  the  fact.  Let  a  court-martial  sit  on  them  pre- 
sently.' 

'  One  word,'  said  young  Lee,  as  they  led  him  from  the 
room. 

'Stop  —  stop,'  said  Cromwell,  with  the  agitation  of 
renewed  hope;  'let  him  be  heard.' 

'You  love  texts  of  Scripture,'  said  Albert.  'Let  this  be 

325 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

the  subject  of  your  next  homily.  "Had  Zimri  peace, 
who  slew  his  master  ?  " ' 

'Away  with  him/  said  the  General;  'let  him  die  the 
death!  I  have  said  it.' 

As  Cromwell  spoke  these  words,  his  aide-de-camp  ob- 
served that  he  became  unwontedly  pale. 

'Your  Excellency  is  overtoiled  in  the  public  service,' 
said  Pearson:  'a  course  of  the  stag  in  the  evening  will 
refresh  you.  The  old  knight  hath  a  noble  hound  here, 
if  we  can  but  get  him  to  hunt  without  his  master,  which 
may  be  hard,  as  he  is  faithful,  and  — ' 

'Hang  him  up!'  said  Cromwell. 

'What  —  whom  —  hang  the  noble  dog?  Your  Excel- 
lency was  wont  to  love  a  good  hound.' 

'It  matters  not,'  said  Cromwell;  'let  him  be  killed. 
Is  it  not  written,  that  they  slew  in  the  valley  of  Achor, 
not  only  the  accursed  Achan,  with  his  sons  and  his 
daughters,  but  also  his  oxen  and  his  asses,  and  his  sheep, 
and  every  live  thing  belonging  unto  him?  And  even 
thus  shall  we  do  to  the  Malignant  family  of  Lee,  who 
have  aided  Sisera  in  his  flight,  when  Israel  might  have 
been  dehvered  of  his  trouble  for  ever.  But  send  out 
couriers  and  patrols.  Follow,  pursue,  watch  in  every  di- 
rection. Let  my  horse  be  ready  at  the  door  in  five  min- 
utes, or  bring  me  the  first  thou  canst  find.' 

It  seemed  to  Pearson  that  this  was  something  wildly 
spoken,  and  that  the  cold  perspiration  was  standing  upon 
the  General's  brow  as  he  said  it.  He  therefore  again 
pressed  the  necessity  of  repose;  and  it  would  appear 
that  nature  seconded  strongly  the  representation.  Crom- 
well arose  and  made  a  step  or  two  towards  the  door  of 
the  apartment;  but  stopped,  staggered,  and,  after  a 

326 


WOODSTOCK 

pause,  sat  down  in  a  chair.  'Truly,  friend  Pearson,'  he 
said,  *  this  weary  carcass  of  ours  is  an  impediment  to  us, 
even  in  our  most  necessary  business,  and  I  am  fitter  to 
sleep  than  to  watch,  which  is  not  my  wont.  Place  guards, 
therefore,  till  we  repose  ourselves  for  an  hour  or  two. 
Send  out  in  every  direction,  and  spare  not  for  horses' 
flesh.  Wake  me  if  the  court-martial  should  require  in- 
struction, and  forget  not  to  see  the  sentence  punctually 
executed  on  the  Lees  and  those  who  were  arrested  with 
them.' 

As  Cromwell  spoke  thus,  he  arose  and  half-opened  a 
bedroom  door,  when  Pearson  again  craved  pardon  for 
asking  if  he  had  rightly  understood  his  Excellency,  that 
all  the  prisoners  were  to  be  executed. 

*  Have  I  not  said  it? '  answered  Cromwell,  displeasedly. 
*Is  it  because  thou  art  a  man  of  blood,  and  hast  ever 
been,  that  thou  dost  affect  these  scruples,  to  show  thy- 
self tender-hearted  at  my  expense?  I  tell  thee  that,  if 
there  lack  one  in  the  full  tale  of  execution,  thine  own  life 
shall  pay  the  forfeit.' 

So  saying,  he  entered  the  apartment,  followed  by  the 
groom  of  his  chamber,  who  attended  upon  Pearson's 
summons. 

When  his  General  had  retired,  Pearson  remained  in 
great  perplexity  what  he  ought  to  do ;  and  that  from  no 
scruples  of  conscience,  but  from  uncertainty  whether 
he  might  not  err  either  in  postponing  or  in  too  hastily 
and  too  literally  executing  the  instructions  he  had  re- 
ceived. 

In  the  meantime,  Strickalthrow  and  Robins  had  re- 
turned, after  lodging  Albert  in  prison,  to  the  room  where 
Pearson  was  still  musing  on  his  General's  commands. 

327 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Both  these  men  were  adjutators  in  their  army,  and  old 
soldiers,  whom  Cromwell  was  accustomed  to  treat  with 
great  familiarity;  so  that  Robins  had  no  hesitation  to 
ask  Captain  Pearson  '  Whether  he  meant  to  execute  the 
commands  of  the  General,  even  to  the  letter? ' 

Pearson  shook  his  head  with  an  air  of  doubt,  but 
added,  'There  was  no  choice  left.' 

'Be  assured,'  said  the  old  man,  'that,  if  thou  dost  this 
folly,  thou  wilt  cause  Israel  to  sin,  and  that  the  General 
will  not  be  pleased  with  your  service.  Thou  knowest, 
and  none  better  than  thou,  that  Oliver,  although  he  be 
like  unto  David  the  son  of  Jesse  in  faith,  and  wisdom, 
and  courage,  yet  there  are  times  when  the  evil  spirit 
Cometh  upon  him  as  it  did  upon  Saul,  and  he  uttereth 
commands  which  he  will  not  thank  any  one  for  execut- 
ing.' 

Pearson  was  too  good  a  politician  to  assent  directly  to 
a  proposition  which  he  could  not  deny:  he  only  shook 
his  head  once  more,  and  said  that  it  was  easy  for  those 
to  talk  who  were  not  responsible,  but  the  soldier's  duty 
was  to  obey  his  orders,  and  not  to  judge  of  them. 

'Very  righteous  truth,'  said  Merciful  Strickalthrow,  a 
grim  old  Scotchman :  *  I  marvel  where  our  brother  Zerub- 
babel  caught  up  this  softness  of  heart?' 

'Why,  I  do  but  wish,'  said  Zerubbabel,  'that  four  or 
five  human  creatures  may  draw  the  breath  of  God's  air 
for  a  few  hours  more;  there  can  be  small  harm  done  by 
delaying  the  execution,  and  the  General  will  have  some 
time  for  reflection.' 

*Ay,'  said  Captain  Pearson,  *but  I  in  my  service  must 
be  more  pointedly  obsequious  than  thou  in  thy  plain- 
ness art  bound  to  be,  friend  Zerubbabel.' 

328 


WOODSTOCK  1 

'Then  shall  the  coarse  frieze  cassock  of  the  private 
soldier  help  the  golden  gaberdine  of  the  captain  to  bear 
out  the  blast,'  said  Zerubbabel.  *  Ay,  indeed,  I  can  show 
you  warrant  why  we  will  be  aidful  to  each  other  in  doing 
acts  of  kindness  and  long-suffering,  seeing  the  best  of  us 
are  poor  sinful  creatures,  who  might  suffer,  being  called 
to  a  brief  accounting.' 

'Of  a  verity  you  surprise  me,  brother  Zerubbabel,' 
said  Strickalthrow,  'that  thou,  being  an  old  and  experi- 
enced soldier,  whose  head  hath  grown  grey  in  battle, 
shouldst  give  such  advice  to  a  young  officer.  Is  not  the 
General's  commission  to  take  away  the  wicked  from  the 
land,  and  to  root  out  theAmalekite,and  the  Jebusite,and 
the  Perizzite,  and  the  Hittite,  and  the  Girgashite,  and 
the  Amorite?  and  are  not  these  men  justly  to  be  com- 
pared to  the  five  kings  who  took  shelter  in  the  cave  of 
Makkedah,  who  were  dehvered  into  the  hands  of  Joshua 
the  son  of  Nun?  and  he  caused  his  captains  and  his  sol- 
diers to  come  near  and  tread  on  their  necks,  and  then  he 
smote  them,  and  he  slew  them,  and  then  he  hanged  them 
on  five  trees,  even  till  evening.  And  thou,  Gilbert  Pear- 
son by  name,  be  not  withheld  from  the  duty  which  is 
appointed  to  thee,  but  do  even  as  has  been  commanded 
by  him  who  is  raised  up  to  judge  and  to  dehver  Israel; 
for  it  is  written,  "Cursed  is  he  who  holdeth  back  his 
sword  from  the  slaughter."' 

Thus  wrangled  the  two  military  theologians,  while 
Pearson,  much  more  solicitous  to  anticipate  the  wishes 
of  Oliver  than  to  know  the  will  of  Heaven,  listened  to 
them  with  great  indecision  and  perplexity. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 


But  let  us  now,  like  soldiers  on  the  watch, 
Put  the  soul's  armour  on,  alike  prepared 
For  all  a  soldier's  warfare  brings. 

Joanna  Bahxix. 


The  reader  will  recollect  that,  when  Rochecliffe  and 
Joceline  were  made  prisoners,  the  party  which  escorted 
them  had  two  other  captives  in  their  train  —  Colonel 
Everard,  namely,  and  the  Rev.  Nehemiah  Holdenough. 
When  Cromwell  had  obtained  entrance  into  Woodstock, 
and  commenced  his  search  after  the  fugitive  prince,  the 
prisoners  were  placed  in  what  had  been  an  old  guard- 
room, and  which  was  by  its  strength  well  calculated  to 
serve  for  a  prison,  and  a  guard  was  placed  over  them  by 
Pearson.  No  light  was  allowed,  save  that  of  a  glimmer- 
ing fire  of  charcoal.  The  prisoners  remained  separated 
from  each  other,  Colonel  Everard  conversing  with  Ne- 
hemiah Holdenough  at  a  distance  from  Dr.  Rochechffe, 
Sir  Henry  Lee,  and  Joceline.  The  party  was  soon  after 
augmented  by  Wildrake,  who  was  brought  down  to  the 
lodge,  and  thrust  in  with  so  little  ceremony  that,  his 
arms  being  bound,  he  had  very  nearly  fallen  on  his  nose 
in  the  middle  of  the  prison. 

*I  thank  you,  my  good  friends,'  he  said,  looking  back 
to  the  door,  which  they  who  had  pushed  him  in  were 
securing.  ^  Point  de  ceremonie  —  no  apology  for  tumbling, 
so  we  light  in  good  company.  Save  ye  —  save  ye,  gentle- 
men all.  What,  a  la  mort,  and  nothing  stirring  to  keep 
the  spirits  up,  and  make  a  night  on 't?  the  last  we  shall 

330 


WOODSTOCK 

have,  I  take  it;  for  a  make  to  a  million  but  we  trine  to 
the  nubbing  cheat  to-morrow.  Patron  —  noble  patron, 
how  goes  it?  This  was  but  a  scurvy  trick  of  Noll,  so  far 
as  you  were  concerned;  as  for  me,  why,  I  might  have 
deserved  something  of  the  kind  at  his  hand.' 

'Prithee,  Wildrake,  sit  down,'  said  Everard;  'thou 
art  drunk  —  disturb  us  not.' 

'Drunk  —  I  drunk!'  cried  Wildrake.  'I  have  been 
spUcing  the  main-brace,  as  Jack  says  at  Wapping  — 
have  been  tasting  Noll's  brandy  in  a  bumper  to  the 
King's  health,  and  another  to  his  Excellency's  confu- 
sion, and  another  to  the  d n  of  Parliament,  and  it 

may  be  one  or  two  more,  but  all  to  devilish  good  toasts. 
But  I  'm  not  drunk.' 

'Prithee,  friend,  be  not  profane,'  said  Nehemiah 
Holdenough. 

'What,  my  Httle  Presbyterian  parson,  my  slender 
Mass  John !  Thou  shalt  say  amen  to  this  world  instantly,' 
said  Wildrake.  '  I  have  had  a  weary  time  in 't  for  one. 
Ha,  noble  Sir  Henry,  I  kiss  your  hand.  I  tell  thee, 
knight,  the  point  of  my  Toledo  was  near  Cromwell's 
heart  last  night,  as  ever  a  button  on  the  breast  of  his 
doublet.  Rat  him,  he  wears  secret  armour.  He  a  soldier! 
Had  it  not  been  for  a  cursed  steel  shirt,  I  would  have 
spitted  him  like  a  lark.  Ha,  Dr.  RochecUffe!  thou  know- 
est  I  can  wield  my  weapon.' 

'Yes,'  replied  the  Doctor,  'and  you  know  I  can  use 
mine.' 

'I  prithee  be  quiet,  Master  Wildrake,'  said  Sir  Henry. 

'Nay,  good  knight,'  answered  Wildrake,  'be  some- 
what more  cordial  with  a  comrade  in  distress.  This  is  a 
different  scene  from  the  Brentford  storming-party.  The 

331 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

jade  Fortune  has  been  a  very  step-mother  to  me.  I  will 
sing  you  a  song  I  made  on  my  own  ill-luck.* 

'At  this  moment,  Captain  Wildrake,  we  are  not  in  a 
fitting  mood  for  singing,'  said  Sir  Henry,  civilly  and 
gravely. 

'Nay,  it  will  aid  your  devotions.  Egad,  it  sounds  like 
a  penitential  psahn :  — 

When  I  was  a  young  lad, 

My  fortune  was  bad, 
If  e'er  I  do  well 't  is  a  wonder. 

I  spent  all  my  means 

Amid  sharpers  and  queans, 
Then  I  got  a  commission  to  plunder. 

I  have  stockings,  't  is  true, 

But  the  devil  a  shoe, 
I  am  forced  to  wear  boots  in  all  weather; 

Be  d d  the  boot  sole. 

Curse  on  the  spur-roll, 
Confounded  be  the  upper-leather.'  * 

The  door  opened  as  Wildrake  finished  this  stanza 
at  the  top  of  his  voice,  and  in  rushed  a  sentinel,  who, 
greeting  him  by  the  title  of  a  'blasphemous  bellowing 
bull  of  Bashan,'  bestowed  a  severe  blow  with  his  ram- 
rod on  the  shoulders  of  the  songster,  whose  bonds  per- 
mitted him  no  means  of  returning  the  compliment. 

'  Your  humble  servant  again,  sir,'  said  Wildrake,  shrug- 
ging his  shoulders;  'sorry  I  have  no  means  of  showing 
my  gratitude.  I  am  bound  over  to  keep  the  peace,  like 
Captain  Bobadil.  Ha,  knight,  did  you  hear  my  bones 
clatter?  That  blow  came  twangingly  off:  the  fellow 
might  inflict  the  bastinado,  were  it  in  presence  of  the 
Grand  Seignior;  he  has  no  taste  for  music,  knight  —  is 

'  Such  a  song,  or  something  very  like  it,  may  be  found  in  Ramsay's 
Tea-Table  Miscellany,  among  the  wild  slips  of  minstrelsy  which  are  there 
collected. 


WOODSTOCK 

no  way  moved  by  the  "concord  of  sweet  sounds."  I  will 

warrant  him  fit  for  treason,  stratagem,  and  spoil.  Eh  — 

all  down  in  the  mouth?   Well,  I'll  go  to  sleep  to-night 

on  a  bench,  as  I've  done  many  a  night,  and  I  will  be 

ready  to  be  hanged  decently  in  the  morning,  which  never 

happened  to  me  before  in  all  my  life. 

When  I  was  a  young  lad, 
My  fortune  was  bad  — 

Pshaw!  This  is  not  the  tune  it  goes  to.'  Here  he  fell  fast 
asleep,  and  sooner  or  later  all  his  companions  in  misfor- 
tune followed  his  example. 

The  benches  intended  for  the  repose  of  the  soldiers  of 
the  guard  afforded  the  prisoners  convenience  enough  to 
lie  down,  though  their  slumbers,  it  may  be  believed, 
were  neither  sound  nor  undisturbed.  But,  when  daylight 
was  but  a  little  while  broken,  the  explosion  of  gunpowder 
which  took  place,  and  the  subsequent  fall  of  the  turret 
to  which  the  mine  was  applied,  would  have  awakened 
the  Seven  Sleepers,  or  Morpheus  himself.  The  smoke, 
penetrating  through  the  windows,  left  them  at  no  loss 
for  the  cause  of  the  din, 

'There  went  my  gunpowder,'  said  RochecUffe,  'which 
has,  I  trust,  blown  up  as  many  rebel  villains  as  it  might 
have  been  the  means  of  destroying  otherwise  in  a  fair 
field.   It  must  have  caught  fire  by  chance.' 

'By  chance!  no,'  said  Sir  Henry;  'depend  on  it,  my 
bold  Albert  has  fired  the  train,  and  that  in  yonder  blast 
Cromwell  was  flying  towards  the  heaven  whose  battle- 
ments he  will  never  reach.  Ah,  my  brave  boy!  and 
perhaps  thou  art  thyself  sacrificed,  like  a  youthful  Sam- 
son among  the  rebellious  PhiUstines!  But  I  will  not  be 
long  behind  thee,  Albert.' 

333 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Everard  hastened  to  the  door,  hoping  to  obtain  from 
the  guard,  to  whom  his  name  and  rank  might  be  known, 
some  explanation  of  the  noise,  which  seemed  to  an- 
nounce some  dreadful  catastrophe. 

But  Nehemiah  Holdenough,  whose  rest  had  been 
broken  by  the  trumpet  which  gave  signal  for  the  ex- 
plosion, appeared  in  the  very  acme  of  horror.  *  It  is  the 
trumpet  of  the  Archangel!'  he  cried  —  'it  is  the  crush- 
ing of  this  world  of  elements  —  it  is  the  summons  to  the 
judgment-seat!  The  dead  are  obeying  the  call  —  they 
are  with  us  —  they  are  amongst  us  —  they  arise  in  their 
bodily  frames  —  they  come  to  summon  usl' 

As  he  spoke,  his  eyes  were  riveted  upon  Dr.  Roche- 
cliffe,  who  stood  directly  opposite  to  him.  In  rising  hast- 
ily, the  cap  which  he  commonly  wore,  according  to  a 
custom  then  usual  both  among  clergymen  and  gownmen 
of  a  civil  profession,  had  escaped  from  his  head,  and  car- 
ried with  it  the  large  silk  patch  which  he  probably  wore 
for  the  purpose  of  disguise;  for  the  cheek  which  was  dis- 
closed was  unscarred,  and  the  eye  as  good  as  that  which 
was  usually  uncovered. 

Colonel  Everard,  returning  from  the  door,  endeav- 
oured in  vain  to  make  Master  Holdenough  comprehend 
what  he  learned  from  the  guard  without,  that  the  ex- 
plosion had  involved  only  the  death  of  one  of  Cromwell's 
soldiers.  The  Presbyterian  divine  continued  to  stare 
wildly  at  him  of  the  Episcopal  persuasion. 

But  Dr.  Rochecliffe  heard  and  understood  the  news 
brought  by  Colonel  Everard,  and,  relieved  from  the 
instant  anxiety  which  had  kept  him  stationary,  he  ad- 
vanced towards  the  retiring  Calvinist,  extending  his 
hand  in  the  most  friendly  manner. 

334 


WOODSTOCK 

'Avoid  thee  —  avoid  thee!'  said  Holdenough,  'the 
Hving  may  not  join  hands  with  the  dead.' 

'But  1/  said  RochecHffe,  'am  as  much  alive  as  you 
are.' 

'Thou  alive!  —  thou!  Joseph  Albany,  whom  my  own 
eyes  saw  precipitated  from  the  battlements  of  Glides- 
throw  Castle?' 

'Ay,'  answered  the  Doctor,  'but  you  did  not  see  me 
swim  ashore  on  a  marsh  covered  with  sedges  — fugit 
ad  salices  —  after  a  manner  which  I  will  explain  to  you 
another  time.' 

Holdenough  touched  his  hand  with  doubt  and  uncer- 
tainty. 'Thou  art  indeed  warm  and  alive,'  he  said,  'and 
yet  after  so  many  blows,  and  a  fall  so  tremendous,  thou 
canst  not  be  my  Joseph  Albany.' 

'I  am  Joseph  Albany  Rochecliffe,'  said  the  Doctor, 
'become  so  in  virtue  of  my  mother's  httle  estate,  which 
fines  and  confiscations  have  made  an  end  of.' 

'And  is  it  so  indeed?'  said  Holdenough,  'and  have  I 
recovered  mine  old  chum?' 

'Even  so,'  replied  Rochecliffe,  'by  the  same  token  I 
appeared  to  you  in  the  Mirror  Chamber.  Thou  wert  so 
bold,  Nehemiah,  that  our  whole  scheme  would  have  been 
shipwrecked,  had  I  not  appeared  to  thee  in  the  shape  of 
a  departed  friend.  Yet,  believe  me,  it  went  against  my 
heart  to  do  it.' 

'Ah,  fie  on  thee  —  fie  on  thee,'  said  Holdenough, 
throwing  himself  into  his  arms,  and  clasping  him  to  his 
bosom,  'thou  wert  ever  a  naughty  wag.  How  couldst 
thou  play  me  such  a  trick?  Ah,  Albany,  dost  thou  re- 
member Dr.  Purefoy  and  Caius  College? ' 

'Marry,  do  I,'  said  the  Doctor,  thrusting  his  arm 

335 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

through  the  Presbyterian  divine's,  and  guiding  him  to 
a  seat  apart  from  the  other  prisoners,  who  witnessed 
this  scene  with  much  surprise.  'Remember  Caius  Col- 
lege!' said  Rochecliffe,  'ay,  and  the  good  ale  we  drank, 
and  our  parties  to  Mother  Huffcap's.' 

'Vanity  of  vanities,'  said  Holdenough,  smiling  kindly 
at  the  same  time,  and  still  holding  his  recovered  friend's 
arm  inclosed  and  handlocked  in  his. 

'But  the  breaking  the  principal's  orchard,  so  cleanly 
done,'  said  the  Doctor ; '  it  was  the  first  plot  I  ever  framed, 
and  much  work  I  had  to  prevail  on  thee  to  go  into  it.' 

*0h,  name  not  that  iniquity,'  said  Nehemiah,  'since 
I  may  well  say,  as  the  pious  Master  Baxter,  that  these 
boyish  offences  have  had  their  punishment  in  later  years, 
inasmuch  as  that  inordinate  appetite  for  fruit  hath  pro- 
duced stomachic  affections  under  which  I  yet  labour.' 

'True  —  true,  dear  Nehemiah,'  said  Rochecliffe;  'but 
care  not  for  them  —  a  dram  of  brandy  will  correct  it  all. 
Mr.  Baxter  was'  —  he  was  about  to  say,  'an  ass,'  but 
checked  himself,  and  only  filled  up  the  sentence  with 
*a  good  man,  I  dare  say,  but  over-scrupulous.' 

So  they  sat  down  together  the  best  of  friends,  and  for 
half  an  hour  talked  with  mutual  delight  over  old  college 
stories.  By  degrees  they  got  on  the  politics  of  the  day; 
and  then  though  they  unclasped  their  hands,  and  there  oc- 
curred between  them  such  expressions  as  '  Nay,  my  dear 
brother,'  and  'There  I  must  needs  differ,'  and  'On  this 
point  I  crave  leave  to  think ' ;  yet  a  hue  and  cry  against 
the  Independents  and  other  sectarists  being  started,  they 
followed  like  brethren  in  full  hollo,  and  it  was  hard  to 
guess  which  was  most  forward.  Unhappily,  in  the  course 
of  this  amicable  intercourse,  something  was  mentioned 

336 


WOODSTOCK 

about  the  bishopric  of  Titus,  which  at  once  involved 
them  in  the  doctrinal  question  of  church  government. 
Then,  alas!  the  flood-gates  were  opened,  and  they 
showered  on  each  other  Greek  and  Hebrew  texts,  while 
their  eyes  kindled,  their  cheeks  glowed,  their  hands  be- 
came clenched,  and  they  looked  more  like  fierce  polemics 
about  to  rend  each  other's  eyes  out  than  Christian  di- 
vines. 

Roger  Wildrake,  by  making  himself  an  auditor  of  the 
debate,  contrived  to  augment  its  violence.  He  took,  of 
course,  a  most  decided  part  in  a  question  the  merits  of 
which  were  totally  unknown  to  him.  Somewhat  over- 
awed by  Holdenough's  ready  oratory  and  learning,  the 
Cavalier  watched  with  a  face  of  anxiety  the  countenance 
of  Dr.  Rochecliffe;  but  when  he  saw  the  proud  eye  and 
steady  bearing  of  the  Episcopal  champion,  and  heard  him 
answer  Greek  with  Greek,  and  Hebrew  with  Hebrew, 
Wildrake  backed  his  arguments  as  he  closed  them  with 
a  stout  rap  upon  the  bench,  and  an  exulting  laugh  in  the 
face  of  the  antagonist.  It  was  with  some  difficulty  that 
Sir  Henry  and  Colonel  Everard,  having  at  length  and 
reluctantly  interfered,  prevailed  on  the  two  ahenated 
friends  to  adjourn  their  dispute,  removing  at  the  same 
time  to  a  distance,  and  regarding  each  other  with  looks 
in  which  old  friendship  appeared  to  have  totally  given 
way  to  mutual  animosity. 

But  while  they  sat  lowering  on  each  other,  and  longing 
to  renew  a  contest  in  which  each  claimed  the  victory, 
Pearson  entered  the  prison,  and,  in  a  low  and  troubled 
voice,  desired  the  persons  whom  it  contained  to  prepare 
for  instant  death. 

Sir  Henry  Lee  received  the  doom  with  the  stern  com- 

38  337 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

posure  which  he  had  hitherto  displayed.  Colonel  Ever- 
ard  attempted  the  interposition  of  a  strong  and  resentful 
appeal  to  the  Parliament  against  the  judgment  of  the 
court-martial  and  the  General.  But  Pearson  declined 
to  receive  or  transmit  any  such  remonstrance,  and,  with 
a  dejected  look  and  mien  of  melancholy  presage,  re- 
newed his  exhortation  to  them  to  prepare  for  the  hour 
of  noon,  and  withdrew  from  the  prison. 

The  operation  of  this  intelligence  on  the  two  clerical 
disputants  was  more  remarkable.  They  gazed  for  a  mo- 
ment on  each  other  with  eyes  in  which  repentant  kind- 
ness and  a  feeling  of  generous  shame  quenched  every  lin- 
gering feeling  of  resentment,  and  joining  in  the  mutual 
exclamation  —  *  My  brother  —  my  brother,  I  have 
sinned  —  I  have  sinned  in  offending  thee ! '  they  rushed 
into  each  other's  arms,  shed  tears  as  they  demanded  each 
other's  forgiveness,  and,  like  two  warriors  who  sacrifice 
a  personal  quarrel  to  discharge  their  duty  against  the 
common  enemy,  they  recalled  nobler  ideas  of  their 
sacred  character,  and,  assuming  the  part  which  best 
became  them  on  an  occasion  so  melancholy,  began  to 
exhort  those  around  them  to  meet  the  doom  that  had 
been  announced  with  the  firmness  and  dignity  which 
Christianity  alone  can  give. 


CHAPTER  XXXVn 

Most  gracious  prince,  good  Cannyng  cried, 

Leave  vengeance  to  our  God, 
And  lay  the  iron  rule  aside: 

Be  thine  the  olive  rod. 

Ballad  of  Sir  Charles  Barjodin. 

The  hour  appointed  for  execution  had  been  long  past, 
and  it  was  about  five  in  the  evening,  when  the  Protector 
summoned  Pearson  to  his  presence.  He  went  with  fear 
and  reluctance,  uncertain  how  he  might  be  received. 
After  remaining  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  the  aide-de- 
camp returned  to  Victor  Lee's  parlour,  where  he  found 
the  old  soldier,  Zerubbabel  Robins,  in  attendance  for  his 
return. 

'How  is  Oliver?'  said  the  old  man,  anxiously. 

'Why,  well,'  answered  Pearson,  'and  hath  asked  no 
questions  of  the  execution,  but  many  concerning  the  re- 
ports we  have  been  able  to  make  regarding  the  flight  of 
the  Young  Man,  and  is  much  moved  at  thinking  he  must 
now  be  beyond  pursuit.  Also  I  gave  him  certain  papers 
belonging  to  the  Malignant  Dr.  Rochecliffe.' 

'Then  will  I  venture  upon  him,'  said  the  adjutator; 
*  so  give  me  a  napkin  that  I  may  look  like  a  sewer,  and 
fetch  the  food  which  I  directed  should  be  in  readiness.' 

Two  troopers  attended  accordingly  with  a  ration  of 
beef,  such  as  was  distributed  to  the  private  soldiers,  and 
dressed  after  their  fashion,  a  pewter  pot  of  ale,  a  trencher 
with  salt,  black  pepper,  and  a  loaf  of  ammunition  bread. 
'Come  with  me,'  he  said  to  Pearson,  'and  fear  not  — 

339 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Noll  loves  an  innocent  jest.'  He  boldly  entered  the  Gen- 
eral's sleeping-apartment,  and  said  aloud,  'Arise,  thou 
that  art  called  to  be  a  judge  in  Israel;  let  there  be  no 
more  folding  of  the  hands  to  sleep.  Lo,  I  come  as  a  sign 
to  thee;  wherefore  arise,  eat,  drink,  and  let  thy  heart 
be  glad  within  thee,  for  thou  shalt  eat  with  joy  the  food 
of  him  that  laboureth  in  the  trenches,  seeing  that,  since 
thou  wert  commander  over  the  host,  the  poor  sentinel 
hath  had  such  provisions  as  I  have  now  placed  for  thine 
own  refreshment.' 

'Truly,  brother  Zerubbabel,'  said  Cromwell,  accus- 
tomed to  such  starts  of  enthusiasm  among  his  followers, 
*  we  would  wish  that  it  were  so;  neither  is  it  our  desire  to 
sleep  soft  nor  feed  more  highly  than  the  meanest  that 
ranks  under  our  banners.  Verily,  thou  hast  chosen  well 
for  my  refreshment,  and  the  smell  of  the  food  is  savoury 
in  my  nostrils.' 

He  arose  from  the  bed,  on  which  he  had  lain  down  half 
dressed,  and  wrapping  his  cloak  around  him,  sat  down 
by  the  bedside,  and  partook  heartily  of  the  plain  food 
which  was  prepared  for  him.  While  he  was  eating,  Crom- 
well commanded  Pearson  to  finish  his  report  —  *  You 
need  not  desist  for  the  presence  of  a  worthy  soldier, 
whose  spirit  is  as  my  spirit.' 

'Nay,  but,'  interrupted  Robins,  'you  are  to  know  that 
Gilbert  Pearson  hath  not  fully  executed  thy  commands 
touching  a  part  of  those  Malignants,  all  of  whom  should 
have  died  at  noon.' 

'What  execution  —  what  Mahgnants?'  said  Crom- 
well, laying  down  his  knife  and  fork. 

'Those  in  the  prison  here  at  Woodstock,'  answered 
Zerubbabel, '  whom  your  Excellency  commanded  should 

340 


WOODSTOCK 

be  executed  at  noon,  as  taken  in  the  fact  of  rebellion 
against  the  Commonwealth.' 

'Wretch!'  said  Cromwell,  starting  up  and  addressing 
Pearson, '  thou  hast  not  touched  Mark  Everard,  in  whom 
there  was  no  guilt,  for  he  was  deceived  by  him  who  passed 
between  us,  neither  hast  thou  put  forth  thy  hand  on  the 
pragmatic  Presbyterian  minister,  to  have  all  those  of 
their  classes  cry  sacrilege,  and  alienate  them  from  us 
for  ever?' 

*  If  your  Excellency  wish  them  to  live,  they  live :  their 
life  and  death  are  in  the  power  of  a  word,'  said  Pearson. 

'Enfranchise  them:  I  must  gain  the  Presbyterian 
interest  over  to  us  if  I  can.' 

*  Rochecliflf e,  the  arch-plotter,'  said  Pearson, '  I  thought 
to  have  executed,  but  — ' 

*  Barbarous  man,'  said  Cromwell,  'alike  ungrateful 
and  impolitic,  wouldst  thou  have  destroyed  our  decoy- 
duck?  This  doctor  is  but  like  a  well,  a  shallow  one  in- 
deed, but  something  deeper  than  the  springs  which  dis- 
charge their  secret  tribute  into  his  keeping;  then  come 
I  with  a  pump,  and  suck  it  all  up  to  the  open  air.  En- 
large him,  and  let  him  have  money  if  he  wants  it.  I  know 
his  haunts :  he  can  go  nowhere  but  our  eye  will  be  upon 
him.  But  you  look  at  each  other  darkly,  as  if  you  had 
more  to  say  than  you  durst.  I  trust  you  have  not  done 
to  death  Sir  Henry  Lee?' 

'No.  Yet  the  man,'  replied  Pearson,  'is  a  confirmed 
Malignant,  and  — ' 

'Ay,  but  he  is  also  a  noble  relic  of  the  ancient  English 
gentleman,'  said  the  General.  'I  would  I  knew  how  to 
win  the  favour  of  that  race:  But  we,  Pearson,  whose 
royal  robes  are  the  armour  which  we  wear  on  our  bodies, 

341 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

and  whose  leading-staves  are  our  sceptres,  are  too  newly 
set  up  to  draw  the  respect  of  the  proud  Malignants,  who 
cannot  brook  to  submit  to  less  than  royal  lineage.  Yet 
what  can  they  see  in  the  longest  kingly  line  in  Europe 
save  that  it  runs  back  to  a  successful  soldier?  I  grudge 
that  one  man  should  be  honoured  and  followed,  because 
he  is  the  descendant  of  a  victorious  commander,  while 
less  honour  and  allegiance. is  paid  to  another,  who,  in 
personal  quahties  and  in  success,  might  emulate  the 
founder  of  his  rival's  dynasty.  Well,  Sir  Henry  Lee  lives, 
and  shall  live  for  me.  His  son,  indeed,  hath  deserved  the 
death  which  he  has  doubtless  sustained.' 

*My  lord,'  stammered  Pearson,  'since  your  Excel- 
lency has  found  I  am  right  in  suspending  your  order  in 
so  many  instances,  I  trust  you  will  not  blame  me  in  this 
also.  I  thought  it  best  to  await  more  special  orders.* 

'  Thou  art  in  a  mighty  merciful  humour  this  morning, 
Pearson,'  said  Cromwell,  not  entirely  satisfied. 

*  If  your  Excellency  please,  the  halter  is  ready,  and  so 
is  the  provost-marshal.' 

'Nay,  if  such  a  bloody  fellow  as  thou  hast  spared  him, 
it  would  ill  become  me  to  destroy  him,'  said  the  General. 
'But  then,  here  is  among  Rochecliffe's  papers  the  en- 
gagement of  twenty  desperadoes  to  take  us  off;  some 
example  ought  to  be  made.' 

'My  lord,'  said  Zerubbabel,  'consider  now  how  often 
this  young  man,  Albert  Lee,  hath  been  near  you,  nay, 
probably  quite  close  to  your  Excellency,  in  these  dark 
passages,  which  he  knew  and  we  did  not.  Had  he  been 
of  an  assassin's  nature,  it  would  have  cost  him  but 
a  pistol-shot,  and  the  light  of  Israel  was  extinguished. 
Nay,  in  the  unavoidable  confusion  which  must  have 

342 


WOODSTOCK 

ensued,  the  sentinels  quitting  their  posts,  he  might  have 
had  a  fair  chance  of  escape.' 

'Enough,  Zerubbabel  —  he  Kves.'  said  the  General. 
'He  shall  remain  in  custody  for  some  time,  however, 
and  be  then  banished  from  England.  The  other  two 
are  safe,  of  course;  for  you  would  not  dream  of  consider- 
ing such  paltry  fellows  as  fit  victims  for  my  revenge.' 

'One  fellow,  the  imder-keeper,  called  Joliffe,  deserves 
death,  however,'  said  Pearson,  'since  he  has  frankly 
admitted  that  he  slew  honest  Joseph  Tomkins.' 

'He  deserves  a  reward  for  saving  us  a  labour,'  said 
Cromwell:  'that  Tomkins  was  a  most  double-hearted 
villain.  I  have  found  evidence  among  these  papers  here, 
that,  if  we  had  lost  the  fight  at  Worcester,  we  should 
have  had  reason  to  regret  that  we  had  ever  trusted 
Master  Tomkins:  it  was  only  our  success  which  antici- 
pated his  treachery.  Write  us  down  debtor,  not  creditor, 
to  Joceline,  an  you  call  him  so,  and  to  his  quarter- 
staff.' 

'There  remains  the  sacrilegious  and  graceless  Cava- 
lier who  attempted  your  Excellency's  life  last  night,' 
said  Pearson. 

'Nay,'  said  the  General,  'that  were  stooping  too  low 
for  revenge.  His  sword  had  no  more  power  than  had  he 
thrusted  with  a  tobacco-pipe.  Eagles  stoop  not  at  mal- 
lards, or  wild  drakes  either.' 

'Yet,  sir,'  said  Pearson, '  the  fellow  should  be  punished 
as  a  libeller.  The  quantity  of  foul  and  pestilential  abuse 
which  we  found  in  his  pockets  makes  me  loth  he  should 
go  altogether  free.   Please  to  look  at  them,  sir.' 

'A  most  vile  hand,'  said  Oliver,  as  he  looked  at  a  sheet 
or  two  of  our  friend  Wildrake's  poetical  miscellanies. 

343 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

*The  very  handwriting  seems  to  be  drunk,  and  the  very 
poetry  not  sober.   What  have  we  here? 

"When  I  was  a  young  lad, 

My  fortune  was  bad; 
If  e'er  I  do  well,  't  is  a  wonder." 

Why,  what  trash  is  this?  and  then  again  — 

"  Now  a  plague  on  the  poll 
Of  old  politic  Noll! 
We  will  drink  till  we  bring 
In  triumph  back  the  King." 

In  truth,  if  it  could  be  done  that  way,  this  poet 
would  be  a  stout  champion.  Give  the  poor  knave  five 
pieces,  Pearson,  and  bid  him  go  sell  his  ballads.  If 
he  comes  within  twenty  miles  of  our  person,  though, 
we  will  have  him  flogged  till  the  blood  runs  down  to 
his  heels.' 

'There  remains  only  one  sentenced  person,'  said  Pear- 
son — '  a  noble  wolf-hound,  finer  than  any  your  Ex- 
cellency saw  in  Ireland.  He  belongs  to  the  old  knight, 
Sir  Henry  Lee.  Should  your  Excellency  not  desire  to 
keep  the  fine  creature  yourself,  might  I  presume  to  beg 
that  I  might  have  leave? ' 

'No,  Pearson,'  said  Cromwell;  'the  old  man,  so  faith- 
ful himself,  shall  not  be  deprived  of  his  faithful  dog.  I 
would  I  had  any  creature,  were  it  but  a  dog,  that  followed 
me  because  it  loved  me,  not  for  what  it  could  make  of 
me.' 

'Your  Excellency  is  unjust  to  your  faithful  soldiers,' 
said  Zerubbabel,  bluntly,  'who  follow  you  like  dogs, 
fight  for  you  like  dogs,  and  have  the  grave  of  a  dog  on 
the  spot  where  they  happen  to  fall.' 

344 


WOODSTOCK' 

'How  now,  old  grumbler/  said  the  General,  'what 
means  this  change  of  note?' 

*  Corporal  Humgudgeon's  remains  are  left  to  moulder 
under  the  ruins  of  yonder  tower,  and  Tomkins  is  thrust 
into  a  hole  in  a  thicket  like  a  beast.' 

'True  —  true,'  said  Cromwell; '  they  shall  be  removed 
to  the  churchyard,  and  every  soldier  shall  attend  with 
cockades  of  sea-green  and  blue  ribbon.  Every  one  of  the 
non-commissioned  officers  and  adjutators  shall  have  a 
mourning  scarf;  we  ourselves  will  lead  the  procession, 
and  there  shall  be  a  proper  dole  of  wine,  burnt  brandy, 
and  rosemary.  See  that  it  is  done,  Pearson.  After  the 
funeral,  Woodstock  shall  be  dismantled  and  destroyed, 
that  its  recesses  may  not  again  afford  shelter  to  rebels 
and  Malignants.' 

The  commands  of  the  General  were  punctually  obeyed, 
and  when  the  other  prisoners  were  dismissed,  Albert 
Lee  remained  for  some  time  in  custody.  He  went  abroad 
after  his  Uberation,  entered  in  Kjng  Charles's  guards, 
where  he  was  promoted  by  that  monarch.  But  his  fate, 
as  we  shall  see  hereafter,  only  allowed  him  a  short  though 
bright  career. 

We  return  to  the  hberation  of  the  other  prisoners  from 
Woodstock.  The  two  divines,  completely  reconciled  to 
each  other,  retreated  arm-in-arm  to  the  parsonage- 
house,  formerly  the  residence  of  Dr.  RochecUffe,  but 
which  he  now  visited  as  the  guest  of  his  successor,  Nehe- 
miah  Holdenough.  The  Presbyterian  had  no  sooner  in- 
stalled his  friend  under  his  roof  than  he  urged  upon  him 
an  offer  to  partake  it,  and  the  income  annexed  to  it,  as 
his  own.  Dr.  RochecHffe  was  much  affected,  but  wisely 

345 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

rejected  the  generous  offer,  considering  the  difference 
of  their  tenets  on  church  government,  which  each  enter- 
tained as  rehgiously  as  his  creed.  Another  debate, 
though  a  h'ght  one,  on  the  subject  of  the  office  of  bishops 
in  the  primitive  church,  confirmed  him  in  his  resolution. 
They  parted  the  next  day,  and  their  friendship  remained 
undisturbed  by  controversy  till  Mr.  Holdenough's  death, 
in  1658  —  a  harmony  which  might  be  in  some  degree 
owing  to  their  never  meeting  again  after  their  imprison- 
ment. Dr.  Rochecliffe  was  restored  to  his  living  after 
the  Restoration,  and  ascended  from  thence  to  high 
clerical  preferment. 

The  inferior  personages  of  the  grand  jail-delivery  at 
Woodstock  Lodge  easily  found  themselves  temporary 
accommodations  in  the  town  among  old  acquaintance; 
but  no  one  ventured  to  entertain  the  old  knight,  under- 
stood to  be  so  much  under  the  displeasure  of  the  ruHng 
powers;  and  even  the  innkeeper  of  the  George,  who  had 
been  one  of  his  tenants,  scarce  dared  to  admit  him  to 
the  common  privileges  of  a  traveller,  who  has  food  and 
lodging  for  his  money.  Everard  attended  him  unre- 
quested,  unpermitted,  but  also  unforbidden.  The  heart 
of  the  old  man  had  been  turned  once  more  towards  him 
when  he  learned  how  he  had  behaved  at  the  memorable 
rencontre  at  the  King's  Oak,  and  saw  that  he  was  an 
object  of  the  enmity,  rather  than  the  favour,  of  Crom- 
well. But  there  was  another  secret  feeling  which  tended 
to  reconcile  him  to  his  nephew  —  the  consciousness  that 
Everard  shared  with  him  the  deep  anxiety  which  he 
experienced  on  account  of  his  daughter,  who  had  not 
yet  returned  from  her  doubtful  and  perilous  expedition. 
He  felt  that  he  himself  would  perhaps  be  unable  to  dis- 

346 


WOODSTOCK 

cover  where  Alice  had  taken  refuge  during  the  late 
events,  or  to  obtain  her  deliverance  if  she  was  taken  into 
custody.  He  wished  Everard  to  offer  him  his  service  in 
making  a  search  for  her,  but  shame  prevented  his  prefer- 
ring the  request;  and  Everard,  who  could  not  suspect 
the  altered  state  of  his  uncle's  mind,  was  afraid  to  make 
the  proposal  of  assistance,  or  even  to  name  the  name 
of  Alice. 

The  sun  had  already  set,  they  sat  looking  each  other 
in  the  face  in  silence,  when  the  trampHng  of  horses 
was  heard,  there  was  knocking  at  the  door,  there  was 
a  light  step  on  the  stair,  and  Ahce,  the  subject  of 
their  anxiety,  stood  before  them.  She  threw  herself 
joyfully  into  her  father's  arms,  who  glanced  his  eye 
heedf uUy  round  the  room,  as  he  said  in  a  whisper,  '  Is 
all  safe?' 

*Safe  and  out  of  danger,  as  I  trust,"  replied  Alice: 
*I  have  a  token  for  you.' 

Her  eye  then  rested  on  Everard,  she  blushed,  was 
embarrassed,  and  silent. 

'You  need  not  fear  your  Presbyterian  cousin,'  said 
the  knight,  with  a  good-humoured  smile,  *he  has  him- 
self proved  a  confessor  at  least  for  loyalty,  and  ran  the 
risk  of  being  a  martyr.' 

She  pulled  from  her  bosom  the  royal  rescript,  written 
on  a  small  and  soiled  piece  of  paper,  and  tied  round  with 
a  worsted  thread  instead  of  a  seal.  Such  as  it  was.  Sir 
Henry  ere  he  opened  it  pressed  the  little  packet  with 
Oriental  veneration  to  his  lips,  to  his  heart,  to  his  fore- 
head; and  it  was  not  before  a  tear  had  dropt  on  it  that 
he  found  courage  to  open  and  read  the  billet.  It  was  in 
these  words :  — 

347 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

*  Loyal  our  Much-Esteemed  Friend  and  our  Trusty 

Subject 

*  It  having  become  known  to  us  that  a  purpose  of  mar- 
riage has  been  entertained  betwixt  Mrs.  AHce  Lee,  your 
only  daughter,  and  Markham  Everard,  Esq.,  of  Eversly 
Chase,  her  kinsman,  and  by  affiancy  your  nephew,  and 
being  assured  that  this  match  would  be  highly  agreeable 
to  you,  had  it  not  been  for  certain  respects  to  our  serv- 
ice, which  induced  you  to  refuse  your  consent  thereto 
—  we  do  therefore  acquaint  you  that,  far  from  our  af- 
fairs suffering  by  such  an  aUiance,  we  do  exhort  and, 
so  far  as  we  may,  require  you  to  consent  to  the  same,  as 
you  would  wish  to  do  us  good  pleasure,  and  greatly  to 
advance  our  affairs.  Leaving  to  you,  nevertheless,  as 
becometh  a  Christian  king,  the  full  exercise  of  your  own 
discretion  concerning  other  obstacles  to  such  an  alliance 
which  may  exist  independent  of  those  connected  with 
our  service.  Witness  our  hand,  together  with  our  thank- 
ful recollections  of  your  good  services  to  our  late  royal 
father  as  well  as  ourselves, 

C.  R.' 

Long  and  steadily  did  Sir  Henry  gaze  on  the  letter, 
so  that  it  might  almost  seem  as  if  he  were  getting  it  by 
heart.  He  then  placed  it  carefully  in  his  pocket-book, 
and  asked  Alice  the  account  of  her  adventures  of  the  pre- 
ceding night.  They  were  briefly  told.  Their  midnight 
walk  through  the  chase  had  been  speedily  and  safely 
accomplished.  Nor  had  the  King  once  made  the  slight- 
est relapse  into  the  naughty  Louis  Kerneguy.  When  she 
had  seen  Charles  and  his  attendant   set  off,  she  had 

348 


WOODSTOCK 

taken  some  repose  in  the  cottage  where  they  parted. 
With  the  morning  came  news  that  Woodstock  was  oc- 
cupied by  soldiers,  so  that  return  thither  might  have 
led  to  danger,  suspicion,  and  inquiry.  Alice  therefore 
did  not  attempt  it,  but  went  to  a  house  in  the  neighbour- 
hood, inhabited  by  a  lady  of  established  loyalty,  whose 
husband  had  been  major  of  Sir  Henry  Lee's  regiment, 
and  had  fallen  at  the  battle  of  Naseby.  Mrs.  Aylmer 
was  a  sensible  woman,  and  indeed  the  necessities  of  the 
singular  times  had  sharpened  every  one's  faculties  for 
stratagem  and  intrigue.  She  sent  a  faithful  servant  to 
scout  about  the  mansion  at  Woodstock,  who  no  sooner 
saw  the  prisoners  dismissed  and  in  safety,  and  ascer- 
tained the  knight's  destination  for  the  evening,  than  he 
carried  the  news  to  his  mistress,  and  by  her  orders  at- 
tended Alice  on  horseback  to  join  her  father. 

There  was  seldom,  perhaps,  an  evening  meal  made  in 
such  absolute  silence  as  by  this  embarrassed  party,  each 
occupied  with  their  own  thoughts,  and  at  a  loss  how  to 
fathom  those  of  the  others.  At  length  the  hour  came 
when  Alice  felt  herself  at  liberty  to  retire  to  repose  after 
a  day  so  fatiguing.  Everard  handed  her  to  the  door  of 
her  apartment,  and  was  then  himself  about  to  take 
leave,  when,  to  his  surprise,  his  uncle  asked  him  to  re- 
turn, pointed  to  a  chair,  and,  giving  him  the  King's 
letter  to  read,  fixed  his  looks  on  him  steadily  during  the 
perusal,  determined  that,  if  he  could  discover  aught 
short  of  the  utmost  delight  in  the  reading,  the  commands 
of  the  King  himself  should  be  disobeyed,  rather  than 
Alice  should  be  sacrificed  to  one  who  received  not  her 
hand  as  the  greatest  blessing  earth  had  to  bestow.  But 
the  features  of  Everard  indicated  joyful  hope,  even  be- 

349 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

yond  what  the  father  could  have  anticipated,  yet  mingled 
with  surprise;  and  when  he  raised  his  eye  to  the  knight's 
with  timidity  and  doubt,  a  smile  was  on  Sir  Henry's  coun- 
tenance as  he  broke  silence.  'The  King,'  he  said,  'had  he 
no  other  subject  in  England,  should  dispose  at  will  of 
those  of  the  house  of  Lee.  But  methinks  the  family  of 
Everard  have  not  been  so  devoted  of  late  to  the  crown 
as  to  comply  with  a  mandate  inviting  its  heir  to  marry 
the  daughter  of  a  beggar.' 

'The  daughter  of  Sir  Henry  Lee,'  said  Everard,  kneel- 
ing to  his  uncle,  and  perforce  kissing  his  hand,  'would 
grace  the  house  of  a  duke.' 

'The  girl  is  well  enough,'  said  the  knight,  proudly; 
*for  myself,  my  poverty  shall  neither  shame  nor  en- 
croach on  my  friends.  Some  few  pieces  I  have  by  Dr. 
Rochecliffe's  kindness,  and  Joceline  and  I  will  strike 
out  something.' 

'  Nay,  my  dear  uncle,  you  are  richer  than  you  think 
for,' said  Everard.  'That  part  of  your  estate  which  my 
father  redeemed  for  payment  of  a  moderate  composi- 
tion is  still  your  own,  and  held  by  trustees  in  your  name, 
myself  being  one  of  them.  You  are  only  our  debtor  for 
an  advance  of  monies,  for  which,  if  it  will  content  you, 
we  will  count  with  you  like  usurers.  My  father  is  in- 
capable of  profiting  by  making  a  bargain  on  his  own  ac- 
count for  the  estate  of  a  distressed  friend;  and  all  this 
you  would  have  learned  long  since,  but  that  you  would 
not  —  I  mean,  time  did  not  serve  for  explanation  —  I 
mean  — ' 

'You  mean  I  was  too  hot  to  hear  reason,  Mark,  and 
I  beheve  it  is  very  true.  But  I  think  we  understand 
each  other  now.    To-morrow  I  go  with  my  family  to 

3SO 


WOODSTOCK 

Kingston,  where  is  an  old  house  I  may  still  call  mine. 
Come  hither  at  thy  leisure,  Mark,  —  or  thy  best  speed, 
as  thou  wilt  —  but  come  with  thy  father's  consent.' 

'With  my  father  in  person,'  said  Everard,  *if  you  will 
permit.' 

'Be  that,'  answered  the  knight,  'as  he  and  you  will. 
I  think  Joceline  will  scarce  shut  the  door  in  thy  face,  or 
Bevis  growl  as  he  did  after  poor  Louis  Kerneguy.  Nay, 
no  more  raptures,  but  good-night,  Mark  —  good-night; 
and  if  thou  art  not  tired  with  the  fatigue  of  yesterday 
—  why,  if  you  appear  here  at  seven  in  the  morning,  I 
think  we  must  bear  with  your  company  on  the  Kingston 
road.' 

Once  more  Everard  pressed  the  knight's  hand,  ca- 
ressed Bevis,  who  received  his  kindness  graciously,  and 
went  home  to  dreams  of  happiness,  which  were  realised, 
as  far  as  this  motley  world  permits,  within  a  few  months 
afterwards. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII 


My  life  was  of  a  piece, 
Spent  in  your  service  —  dying  at  your  feet. 

Don  Sebastian. 


Years  rush  by  us  like  the  wind.  We  see  not  whence  the 
eddy  comes,  nor  whitherward  it  is  tending,  and  we  seem 
ourselves  to  witness  their  flight  without  a  sense  that 
we  are  changed;  and  yet  Time  is  beguiling  man  of  his 
strength,  as  the  winds  rob  the  woods  of  their  foliage. 

After  the  marriage  of  Alice  and  Markham  Everard, 
the  old  knight  resided  near  them,  in  an  ancient  manor- 
house,  belonging  to  the  redeemed  portion  of  his  estate, 
where  Joceline  and  Phoebe,  now  man  and  wife,  with  one 
or  two  domestics,  regulated  the  affairs  of  his  household. 
When  he  tired  of  Shakespeare  and  solitude,  he  was  ever 
a  welcome  guest  at  his  son-in-law's,  where  he  went  the 
more  frequently  that  Markham  had  given  up  all  con- 
cern in  public  affairs,  disapproving  of  the  forcible  dis- 
missal of  the  Parliament,  and  submitting  to  Cromwell's 
subsequent  domination  rather  as  that  which  was  the 
lesser  evil  than  as  to  a  government  which  he  regarded  as 
legal.  Cromwell  seemed  ever  willing  to  show  himself  his 
friend;  but  Everard,  resenting  highly  the  proposal  to 
deliver  up  the  King,  which  he  considered  as  an  insult  to 
his  honour,  never  answered  such  advances,  and  became, 
on  the  contrary,  of  the  opinion,  which  was  now  gener- 
ally prevalent  in  the  nation,  that  a  settled  government 
could  not  be  obtained  without  the  recall  of  the  banished 

352 


WOODSTOCK 

family.  There  is  no  doubt  that  the  personal  kindness 
which  he  had  received  from  Charles  rendered  him  the 
more  readily  disposed  to  such  a  measure.  He  was  per- 
emptory, however,  in  declining  all  engagements  during 
Oliver's  Hfe,  whose  power  he  considered  as  too  firmly 
fixed  to  be  shaken  by  any  plots  which  could  be  formed 
against  it. 

Meantime,  Wildrake  continued  to  be  Everard's  pro- 
tected dependant  as  before,  though  sometimes  the  con- 
nexion tended  not  a  little  to  his  inconvenience.  That 
respectable  person,  indeed,  while  he  remained  station- 
ary in  his  patron's  house  or  that  of  the  old  knight,  dis- 
charged many  little  duties  in  the  family,  and  won  Alice's 
heart  by  his  attention  to  the  children,  teaching  the 
boys,  of  whom  they  had  three,  to  ride,  fence,  toss  the 
pike,  and  many  similar  exercises;  and,  above  all,  filling 
up  a  great  blank  in  her  father's  existence,  with  whom 
he  played  at  chess  and  backgammon,  or  read  Shake- 
speare, or  was  clerk  to  prayers  when  any  sequestrated 
divine  ventured  to  read  the  service  of  the  church ;  or  he 
found  game  for  him  while  the  old  gentleman  continued 
to  go  a-sporting;  and,  especially,  he  talked  over  the 
storming  of  Brentford,  and  the  battles  of  Edgehill,  Ban- 
bury, Roundway  Down,  and  others  —  themes  which 
the  aged  Cavalier  delighted  in,  but  which  he  could  not 
so  well  enter  upon  with  Colonel  Everard,  who  had 
gained  his  laurels  in  the  Parliament  service. 

The  assistance  which  he  received  from  Wildrake's 
society  became  more  necessary  after  Sir  Henry  was  de- 
prived of  his  gallant  and  only  son,  who  was  slain  in 
the  fatal  battle  of  Dunkirk,  where,  unhappily,  English 
colours  were  displayed  on  both  the  contending  sides,  the 

88  353 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

French  being  then  allied  with  Oliver,  who  sent  to  their 
aid  a  body  of  auxiliaries,  and  the  troops  of  the  banished 
king  fighting  in  behalf  of  the  Spaniards.  Sir  Henry  re- 
ceived the  melancholy  news  Hke  an  old  man  —  that  is, 
with  more  external  composure  than  could  have  been  an- 
ticipated. He  dwelt  for  weeks  and  months  on  the  lines 
forwarded  by  the  indefatigable  Dr.  Rochecliffe,  super- 
scribed in  small  letters  'c.  R.,'  and  subscribed  'Louis 
Kerneguy,'  in  which  the  writer  conjured  him  to  endure 
this  inestimable  loss  with  the  greater  firnmess  that  he 
had  still  left  one  son  (intimating  himself),  who  would 
always  regard  him  as  a  father. 

But  in  spite  of  this  balsam,  sorrow,  acting  impercept- 
ibly, and  sucking  the  blood  like  a  vampire,  seemed  gradu- 
ally drying  up  the  springs  of  life;  and,  without  any 
formed  illness  or  outward  complaint,  the  old  man's 
strength  and  vigour  gradually  abated,  and  the  minis- 
try of  Wildrake  proved  daily  more  indispensable. 

It  was  not,  however,  always  to  be  had.  The  Cavalier 
was  one  of  those  happy  persons  whom  a  strong  constitu- 
tion, an  unreflecting  mind,  and  exuberant  spirits  enable 
to  play  through  their  whole  Hves  the  part  of  a  schoolboy 
—  happy  for  the  moment  and  careless  of  consequences. 
Once  or  twice  every  year,  when  he  had  collected  a  few 
pieces,  the  CavaKero  Wildrake  made  a  start  to  London, 
where,  as  he  described  it,  he  went  on  the  ramble,  drank 
as  much  wine  as  he  could  come  by,  and  led  a  *  skeldering* 
life,  to  use  his  own  phrase,  among  roystering  Cavaliers 
like  himself,  till  by  some  rash  speech  or  wild  action  he 
got  into  the  Marshalsea,  the  Fleet,  or  some  other  prison, 
from  which  he  was  to  be  delivered  at  the  expense  of 
interest,  money,  and  sometimes  a  little  reputation. 

354 


WOODSTOCK 

At  length  Cromwell  died,  his  son  resigned  the  govern- 
ment, and  the  various  changes  which  followed  induced 
Everard,  as  well  as  many  others,  to  adopt  more  active 
measures  in  the  king's  behalf.  Everard  even  remitted 
considerable  sums  for  his  service,  but  with  the  utmost 
caution,  and  corresponding  with  no  intermediate  agent, 
but  with  the  Chancellor  himself,  to  whom  he  communi- 
cated much  useful  information  upon  public  affairs.  With 
all  his  prudence,  he  was  very  nearly  engaged  in  the  in- 
effectual rising  of  Booth  and  Middle  ton  in  the  west,  and 
with  great  difficulty  escaped  from  the  fatal  consequences 
of  that  ill-timed  attempt.  After  this,  although  the  estate 
of  the  kingdom  was  trebly  unsettled,  yet  no  card  seemed 
to  turn  up  favourable  to  the  Royal  cause,  until  the  move- 
ment of  General  Monk  from  Scotland.  Even  then,  it 
was  when  at  the  point  of  complete  success  that  the  for- 
tunes of  Charles  seemed  at  a  lower  ebb  than  ever,  es- 
pecially when  intelligence  had  arrived  at  the  Httle  court 
which  he  then  kept  in  Brussels  that  Monk,  on  arriving 
in  London,  had  put  himself  under  the  orders  of  the 
Parliament. 

It  was  at  this  time,  and  in  the  evening,  while  the  King, 
Buckingham,  Wilmot,  and  some  other  gallants  of  his 
wandering  court  were  engaged  in  a  convivial  party,  that 
the  Chancellor  (Clarendon)  suddenly  craved  audience, 
and,  entering  with  less  ceremony  than  he  would  have 
done  at  another  time,  announced  extraordinary  news. 
For  the  messenger,  he  said,  he  could  say  nothing,  saving 
that  he  appeared  to  have  drunk  much  and  slept  little; 
but  that  he  had  brought  a  sure  token  of  credence  from 
a  man  for  whose  faith  he  would  venture  his  life. 

The  King  demanded  to  see  the  messenger  himself. 

355 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

A  man  entered,  with  something  the  manners  of  a  gentle- 
man, and  more  those  of  a  rakehelly  debauchee  —  his 
eyes  swelled  and  inflamed,  his  gait  disordered  and 
stumbling,  partly  through  lack  of  sleep,  partly  through 
the  means  he  had  taken  to  support  his  fatigue.  He  stag- 
gered without  ceremony  to  the  head  of  the  table,  seized 
the  King's  hand,  which  he  mumbled  like  a  piece  of 
gingerbread;  while  Charles,  who  began  to  recollect  him 
from  his  mode  of  salutation,  was  not  very  much  pleased 
that  their  meeting  should  have  taken  place  before  so 
many  witnesses. 

*I  bring  good  news,'  said  the  uncouth  messenger  — 
'glorious  news !  The  King  shall  enjoy  his  own  again !  My 
feet  are  beautiful  on  the  mountains.  Gad,  I  have  lived 
with  Presbyterians  till  I  have  caught  their  language;  but 
we  are  all  one  man's  children  now  —  all  your  Majesty's 
poor  babes.  The  Rump  is  all  ruined  in  London.  Bon- 
fires flaming,  music  playing,  rumps  roasting,  healths 
drinking,  London  in  a  blaze  of  Hght  from  the  Strand  to 
Rotherhithe,  tankards  clattering  — ' 

'We  can  guess  at  that,'  said  the  Duke  of  Buckingham. 

*  My  old  friend  Mark  Everard  sent  me  off  with  the 
news  —  I'm  a  villain,  if  I've  slept  since.  Your  Majesty 
recollects  me,  I  am  sure.  Your  Majesty  remembers 
sa  —  sa  —  at  the  King's  Oak  at  Woodstock? 

O,  we  'II  dance  and  sing  and  play, 

For  't  will  be  a  joyous  day 

When  the  King  shall  enjoy  his  own  again.' 

'Master  Wildrake,  I  remember  you  well,'  said  the 
King.    'I  trust  the  good  news  is  certain?' 

'Certain!  your  Majesty;  did  I  not  hear  the  bells?  did 

3S6 


WOODSTOCK 

I  not  see  the  bonfires?  did  I  not  drink  your  Majesty's 
health  so  often  that  my  legs  would  scarce  carry  me  to 
the  wharf?  It  is  as  certain  as  that  I  am  poor  Roger 
Wildrake  of  Squattlesea  Mere,  Lincoln.' 

The  Duke  of  Buckingham  here  whispered  to  the  King, 
'I  have  always  suspected  your  Majesty  kept  odd  com- 
pany during  the  escape  from  Worcester,  but  this  seems 
a  rare  sample.' 

*W^hy,  pretty  much  like  yourself  and  other  company 
I  have  kept  here  so  many  years  —  as  stout  a  heart,  as 
empty  a  head,'  said  Charles, '  as  much  lace,  though  some- 
what tarnished,  as  much  brass  on  the  brow,  and  nearly 
as  much  copper  in  the  pocket.' 

'I  would  your  Majesty  would  entrust  this  messenger 
of  good  news  with  me,  to  get  the  truth  out  of  him,'  said 
Buckingham. 

'Thank  your  Grace,'  replied  the  King; '  but  he  has  a 
will  as  well  as  yourself,  and  such  seldom  agree.  My  Lord 
Chancellor  hath  wisdom,  and  to  that  we  must  trust 
ourselves.  Master  Wildrake,  you  will  go  with  my  Lord 
Chancellor,  who  will  bring  us  a  report  of  your  tidings; 
meantime,  I  assure  you  that  you  shall  be  no  loser  for 
being  the  first  messenger  of  good  news.'  So  saying,  he 
gave  a  signal  to  the  Chancellor  to  take  away  Wildrake, 
whom  he  judged,  in  his  present  humour,  to  be  not  un- 
likely to  communicate  some  former  passages  at  Wood- 
stock which  might  rather  entertain  than  edify  the  wits 
of  his  court. 

Corroboration  of  the  joyful  intelligence  soon  arrived, 
and  Wildrake  was  presented  with  a  handsome  gratuity 
and  small  pension,  which,  by  the  King's  special  desire, 
had  no  duty  whatever  attached  to  it. 

357 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Shortly  afterwards,  all  England  was  engaged  in 
chorusing  his  favourite  ditty  — 

O,  the  twenty-ninth  of  May, 

It  was  a  glorious  day, 

When  the  King  did  enjoy  his  own  again. 

On  that  memorable  day,  the  King  prepared  to  make  his 
progress  from  Rochester  to  London,  with  a  reception  on 
the  part  of  his  subjects  so  unanimously  cordial  as  made 
him  say  gaily,  *  It  must  have  been  his  own  fault  to  stay 
so  long  away  from  a  country  where  his  arrival  gave  so 
much  joy.'  On  horseback,  betwixt  his  brothers,  the 
Dukes  of  York  and  Gloucester,  the  restored  monarch 
trode  slowly  over  roads  strewn  with  flowers,  by  conduits 
running  wine,  under  triumphal  arches,  and  through 
streets  hung  with  tapestry.  There  were  the  citizens  in 
various  bands,  some  arrayed  in  coats  of  black  velvet, 
with  gold  chains,  some  in  military  suits  of  cloth  of  gold, 
or  cloth  of  silver,  followed  by  all  those  craftsmen  who, 
having  hooted  the  father  from  Whitehall,  had  now  come 
to  shout  the  son  into  possession  of  his  ancestral  palace. 

On  his  progress  through  Blackheath  he  passed  that 
army  which,  so  long  formidable  to  England  herself,  as 
well  as  to  Europe,  had  been  the  means  of  restoring  the 
monarchy  which  their  own  hands  had  destroyed.  As  the 
King  passed  the  last  files  of  this  formidable  host,  he  came 
to  an  open  part  of  the  heath,  where  many  persons  of 
quality,  with  others  of  inferior  rank,  had  stationed  them- 
selves to  gratulate  him  as  he  passed  towards  the  capital. 

There  was  one  group,  however,  which  attracted  pe- 
culiar attention  from  those  around,  on  account  of  the 
respect  shown  to  the  party  by  the  soldiers  who  kept  the 
ground,  and  who,  whether  Cavaliers  or  Roundheads, 

358 


WOODSTOCK 

seemed  to  contest  emulously  which  should  contribute 
most  to  their  accommodation;  for  both  the  elder  and 
younger  gentlemen  of  the  party  had  been  distinguished  in 
the  Civil  War.  It  was  a  family  group,  of  which  the  prin- 
cipal figure  was  an  old  man  seated  in  a  chair,  having  a 
complacent  smile  on  his  face  and  a  tear  swelHng  to  his 
eye,  as  he  saw  the  banners  wave  on  in  interminable 
succession,  and  heard  the  multitude  shouting  the  long- 
silenced  acclamation,  *God  save  King  Charles!'  His 
cheek  was  ashy  pale  and  his  long  beard  bleached  Hke  the 
thistle-down;  his  blue  eye  was  cloudless,  yet  it  was  ob- 
vious that  its  vision  was  failing.  His  motions  were 
feeble,  and  he  spoke  little,  except  when  he  answered  the 
prattle  of  his  grandchildren  or  asked  a  question  of  his 
daughter,  who  sat  beside  him,  matured  in  matronly 
beauty,  or  of  Colonel  Everard,  who  stood  behind.  There, 
too,  the  stout  yeoman,  Joceline  Joliffe,  still  in  his  silvan 
dress,  leaned,  hke  a  second  Benaiah,  on  the  quarter- 
staff  that  had  done  the  King  good  service  in  its  day,  and 
his  wife,  a  buxom  matron  as  she  had  been  a  pretty 
maiden,  laughed  at  her  own  consequence,  and  ever  and 
anon  joined  her  shrill  notes  to  the  stentorian  halloo 
which  her  husband  added  to  the  general  exclamation. 

Three  fine  boys  and  two  pretty  girls  prattled  around 
their  grandfather,  who  made  them  such  answers  as 
suited  their  age,  and  repeatedly  passed  his  withered 
hand  over  the  fair  locks  of  the  Httle  darhngs,  while 
AUce,  assisted  by  Wildrake,  blazing  in  a  splendid  dress, 
and  his  eyes  washed  with  only  a  single  cup  of  canary, 
took  ofif  the  children's  attention  from  time  to  time,  lest 
they  should  weary  their  grandfather.  We  must  not 
omit  one   other  remarkable   figure  in  the  group  —  a 

359 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

gigantic  dog,  which  bore  the  signs  of  being  at  the  extre- 
mity of  canine  hfe,  being  perhaps  fifteen  or  sixteen  years 
old.  But,  though  exhibiting  the  ruin  only  of  his  former 
appearance,  his  eyes  dim,  his  joints  stiff,  his  head 
slouched  down,  and  his  gallant  carriage  and  graceful 
motions  exchanged  for  a  stiff,  rheumatic,  hobbling  gait, 
the  noble  hound  had  lost  none  of  his  instinctive  fondness 
for  his  master.  To  lie  by  Sir  Henry's  feet  in  the  summer 
or  by  the  fire  in  winter,  to  raise  his  head  to  look  on  him, 
to  hck  his  withered  hand  or  his  shrivelled  cheek  from 
time  to  time,  seemed  now  all  that  Bevis  lived  for. 

Three  or  four  livery-servants  attended  to  protect 
this  group  from  the  thronging  multitude;  but  it  needed 
not.  The  high  respectabihty  and  unpretending  sim- 
plicity of  their  appearance  gave  them,  even  in  the  eyes 
of  the  coarsest  of  the  people,  an  air  of  patriarchal  dig- 
nity which  commanded  general  regard;  and  they  sat 
upon  the  bank  which  they  had  chosen  for  their  station 
by  the  wayside  as  undisturbed  as  if  they  had  been  in 
their  own  park. 

And  now  the  distant  clarions  announced  the  royal  pre- 
sence. Onward  came  pursuivant  and  trumpet,  onward 
came  plumes  and  cloth  of  gold,  and  waving  standards 
displayed,  and  swords  gleaming  to  the  sun ;  and  at  length, 
heading  a  group  of  the  noblest  in  England,  and  supported 
by  his  royal  brothers  on  either  side,  onward  came  King 
Charles.  He  had  already  halted  more  than  once,  in  kind- 
ness perhaps  as  well  as  policy,  to  exchange  a  word  with 
persons  whom  he  recognised  among  the  spectators,  and 
the  shouts  of  the  bystanders  applauded  a  courtesy  which 
seemed  so  well  timed.  But  when  he  had  gazed  an  in- 
stant on  the  party  we  have  described,  it  was  impossible, 

360 


WOODSTOCK 

if  even  Alice  had  been  too  much  changed  to  be  re- 
cognised, not  instantly  to  know  Bevis  and  his  venerable 
master.  The  monarch  sprung  from  his  horse,  and  walked 
instantly  up  to  the  old  knight,  amid  thundering  ac- 
clamations which  rose  from  the  multitudes  around, 
when  they  saw  Charles  with  his  own  hand  oppose  the 
feeble  attempts  of  the  old  man  to  rise  to  do  him  homage. 
Gently  replacing  him  on  his  seat,  'Bless,'  he  said, 
'father  —  bless  your  son,  who  has  returned  in  safety, 
as  you  blessed  him  when  he  departed  in  danger.' 

*  May  God  bless  —  and  preserve  — '  muttered  the  old 
man,  overcome  by  his  feelings.  And  the  King,  to  give 
him  a  few  moments'  repose,  turned  to  Alice.  'And  you,* 
he  said,  'my  fair  guide,  how  have  you  been  employed 
since  our  perilous  night-walk?  But  I  need  not  ask,* 
glancing  round  —  'in  the  service  of  king  and  kingdom, 
bringing  up  subjects  as  loyal  as  their  ancestors.  A  fair 
lineage,  by  my  faith,  and  a  beautiful  sight  to  the  eye  of 
an  EngHsh  king!  Colonel  Everard,  we  shall  see  you,  I 
trust,  at  Whitehall?'  Here  he  nodded  to  Wildrake. 
'And  thou,  Joceline,  thou  canst  hold  thy  quarter-staff 
with  one  hand,  sure?   Thrust  forward  the  other  palm.' 

Looking  down  in  sheer  bashfulness,  Joceline,  Hke  a 
bull  about  to  push,  extended  to  the  King,  over  his  lady's 
shoulder,  a  hand  as  broad  and  hard  as  a  wooden  trencher, 
which  the  King  filled  with  gold  coins.  'Buy  a  head-gear 
for  my  friend  Phoebe  with  some  of  these,'  said  Charles; 
'she  too  has  been  doing  her  duty  to  Old  England.' 

The  King  then  turned  once  more  to  the  knight,  who 
seemed  making  an  effort  to  speak.  He  took  his  aged 
hand  in  both  his  own,  and  stooped  his  head  towards  him 
to  catch  his  accents,  while  the  old  man,  detaining  him 

361 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

with  the  other  hand,  said  something  faltering,  of  which 
Charles  could  only  catch  the  quotation:  — 

*  Unthread  the  rude  eye  of  rebellion, 
And  welcome  home  again  discarded  faith/ 

Extricating  himself,  therefore,  as  gently  as  possible, 
from  a  scene  which  began  to  grow  painfully  embarrass- 
ing, the  good-natured  King  said,  speaking  with  unusual 
distinctness  to  ensure  the  old  man's  comprehending  him, 
*  This  is  something  too  public  a  place  for  all  we  have  to 
say.  But  if  you  come  not  soon  to  see  King  Charles  at 
Whitehall,  he  will  send  down  Louis  Kerneguy  to  visit 
you,  that  you  may  see  how  rational  that  mischievous 
lad  is  become  since  his  travels.' 

So  saying,  he  once  more  pressed  afifectionately  the 
old  man's  hand,  bowed  to  Alice  and  all  around,  and  with- 
drew. Sir  Henry  Lee  hstening  with  a  smile,  which  showed 
he  comprehended  the  gracious  tendency  of  what  had 
been  said.  The  old  man  leaned  back  on  his  seat,  and 
muttered  the  Nunc  dimittis. 

'Excuse  me  for  having  made  you  wait,  my  lords,' 
said  the  King,  as  he  mounted  his  horse.  '  Indeed,  had  it 
not  been  for  these  good  folks,  you  might  have  waited 
for  me  long  enough  to  little  purpose.   Move  on,  sirs.' 

The  array  moved  on  accordingly;  the  sound  of  trum- 
pets and  drums  again  rose  amid  the  acclamations,  which 
had  been  silent  while  the  King  stopped ;  while  the  effect 
of  the  whole  procession  resuming  its  motion  was  so 
splendidly  dazzling  that  even  Alice's  anxiety  about  her 
father's  health  was  for  a  moment  suspended,  while  her 
eye  followed  the  long  line  of  varied  brilliancy  that  pro- 
ceeded over  the  heath.    When  she  looked  again  at  Sir 

3^2 


WOODSTOCK 

Henry,  she  was  startled  to  see  that  his  cheek,  which 
had  gained  some  colour  during  his  conversation  with 
the  King,  had  relapsed  into  earthly  paleness;  that  his 
eyes  were  closed,  and  opened  not  again;  and  that  his 
features  expressed,  amid  their  quietude,  a  rigidity  which 
is  not  that  of  sleep.  They  ran  to  his  assistance,  but  it 
was  too  late.  The  light  that  burned  so  low  in  the  socket 
had  leaped  up  and  expired  in  one  exhilarating  flash. 

The  rest  must  be  conceived.  I  have  only  to  add,  that 
his  faithful  dog  did  not  survive  him  many  days;  and  that 
the  image  of  Bevis  Hes  carved  at  his  master's  feet,  on 
the  tomb  which  was  erected  to  the  memory  of  Sir  Henry 
Lee  of  Ditchley.^ 

*  See  Note  9. 


THE  END 


NOTES  AND  GLOSSARY 


NOTES 

Note  i,  p.  48 

The  terrors  preceding  the  civil  wars,  which  agitated  the  public 
mind,  rendered  the  grossest  and  most  exaggerated  falsehoods 
current  among  the  people.  When  Charles  I  appointed  Sir  Thomas 
Lunsford  to  the  situation  of  Lord  Lieutenant  of  the  Tower,  the 
celebrated  John  Lillburn  takes  to  himself  the  credit  of  exciting 
the  public  hatred  against  this  officer  and  Lord  Digby,  as  pitiless 
bravoes  of  the  most  bloody-minded  description,  from  whom  the 
people  were  to  expect  nothing  but  bloodshed  and  massacre.  Of 
Sir  Thomas  Lunsford,  in  particular,  it  was  reported  that  his  fav- 
ourite food  was  the  flesh  of  children,  and  he  was  painted  like  an 
ogre  in  the  act  of  cutting  a  child  into  steaks  and  broihng  them. 
The  colonel  fell  at  the  siege  of  Bristol  in  1643,  but  the  same  cal- 
umny pursued  his  remains,  and  the  credulous  multitude  were  told, 

The  post  who  came  from  Coventry, 

Riding  in  a  red  rocket, 
Did  tidings  tell  how  Lunsford  fell, 

A  child's  hand  in  his  pocket. 

Many  allusions  to  this  report,  as  well  as  to  the  credulity  of  those 
who  believed  it,  may  be  found  in  the  satires  and  lampoons  of  the 
time,  although,  says  Dr.  Grey,  Lunsford  was  a  man  of  great  so- 
briety, industry,  and  courage.  Butler  says  that  the  preachers 

Made  children  with  their  lives  to  run  for  't, 
As  bad  as  Bloodybones  or  Lunsford. 

But  this  extraordinary  report  is  chiefly  insisted  upon  in  a  com- 
edy called  The  Old  Troop,  written  by  John  Lacy,  the  comedian. 
The  scene  is  laid  during  the  civil  wars  of  England,  and  the  persons 
of  the  drama  are  chiefly  those  who  were  in  arms  for  the  King. 
They  are  represented  as  plundering  the  country  without  mercy, 
which  Lacy  might  draw  from  the  life,  having,  in  fact,  begun  his 
career  as  a  lieutenant  of  cavalry,  in  the  service  of  Charles  I.  The 
troopers  find  the  peasants  loth  to  surrender  to  them  their  provis- 
ions, on  which,  in  order  to  compel  them,  they  pretend  to  be  in 
earnest  in  the  purpose  of  eating  the  children.  A  scene  of  coarse 
but  humorous  comedy  is  then  introduced,  which  Dean  Swift  had 
not,  perhaps,  forgotten,  when  he  recommended  the  eating  of  the 

367. 


NOTES 

children  of  the  poor  as  a  mode  of  relieving  the  distresses  of  their 
parents. 

Lieutenant.  Second  me,  and  I'll  make  'era  bring  out  all  they 
have,  I  warrant  you.  Do  but  talk  as  if  we  used  to  eat  children. 
.  .  .  Why,  look  you,  good  woman,  we  do  believe  you  are  poor, 
so  we  '11  make  a  shift  with  our  old  diet;  you  have  children  in  the 
town? 

Woman.  Why  do  you  ask,  sir? 

Lieutenant.  Only  have  two  or  three  to  supper.  Flea-flint,  you 
have  the  best  way  of  cooking  children. 

Flea-flint.  I  can  powder  'em  to  make  you  taste  your  liquor. 
I'm  never  without  a  dried  child's  tongue  or  ham. 

Woman.  O!  bless  me! 

Flea-flint.  Mine 's  but  the  ordinary  way;  but  Ferret-farm  is  the 
man;  he  makes  you  the  savouriest  pie  of  a  child's  chaldron  that 
ever  was  eat. 

Lieutenant.  A  pox!  all  the  world  cannot  cook  a  child  like  Mon- 
sieur Raggou  [a  French  cook  or  messman  to  the  troop,  and  the 
buffoon  of  the  piece]. 

Raggou.  Begar,  me  tink  so;  for  vat  was  me  bred  in  de  King  of 
Mogul's  kitchen  for?  Tere  ve  kill  twenty  shild  of  a  day.  Take  you 
one  shild  by  both  his  two  heels,  and  put  his  head  between  your 
two  leg,  den  take  your  great  a  knife  and  slice  off  all  de  buttack, 
so  fashion;  begar,  dat  make  a  de  best  Scots  collop  in  de  varle. 

Lieutenant.  Ah,  he  makes  the  best  pottage  of  a  child's  head  and 
purtenance;  but  you  must  boil  it  with  bacon.  Woman,  you  must 
get  bacon. 

Woman.  O  Lord  —  yes,  sir! 

Fer.  And  then  it  must  be  very  young. 

Lieutenant.  Yes,  yes.  Good  woman,  it  must  be  a  fine  squab 
child,  of  half  a  year  old  —  a  man  child,  dost  hear?  —  The  Old 
Troop,  Act  ni. 

After  a  good  deal  more  to  this  purpose,  the  villagers  determine 
to  carry  forth  their  sheep,  poultry,  etc.,  to  save  their  children. 
In  the  meantime,  the  Cavaliers  are  in  some  danger  of  being  cross- 
bit,  as  they  then  called  it;  that  is,  caught  in  their  own  snare. 
A  woman  enters,  who  announces  herself  thus:  — 

Nurse.  By  your  leaves,  your  good  worships,  I  have  made  bold 
to  bring  you  in  some  provisions. 

368 


NOTES 

Fer.  Provisions!  where,  where  is  thy  provisions? 

Nurse.  Here,  an't  please  you.  I  have  brought  you  a  couple  of 
fine  fleshy  children. 

Cornet.  Was  ever  such  a  horrid  woman!  what  shall  we  do? 

Nurse.  Truly,  gentlemen,  they're  as  fine  squab  children  — 
shall  I  turn  'em  up?   They  have  the  bravest  brawny  buttocks. 

Lieutenant.  No,  no;  but,  woman,  art  thou  not  troubled  to  part 
with  thy  children? 

Nurse.  Alas,  they  are  none  of  mine,  sir,  they  are  but  nurse 
children.  .  .  , 

Lieutenant.  What  a  beast  is  this!  —  whose  children  are  they? 

Nurse.  A  Londoner's,  that  owes  me  for  a  year's  nursing.  I  hope 
they  '11  prove  excellent  meat;  they  're  twins,  too. 

Raggou.  Aha!  but,  begar,  we  never  eat  no  twin  shild;  de  law 
forbid  dat.  —  {Ibidem.) 

In  this  manner  the  Cavaliers  escape  from  the  embarrassing  con- 
sequences of  their  own  stratagem,  which,  as  the  reader  will  per- 
ceive, has  been  made  use  of  in  the  text. 


Note  2,  p.  132 

This  gossiping  tale  is  to  be  found  in  the  Variorum  Shakespeare. 
D'Avenant  did  not  much  mind  throwing  out  hints  in  which  he 
sacrificed  his  mother's  character  to  his  desire  of  being  held  a 
descendant  from  the  admirable  Shakespeare. 


Note  3,  p.  132 

We  observe  this  couplet  in  Fielding's  farce  of  Tumble-down- 
Dick,  founded  on  the  same  classical  story.  As  it  was  current  in 
the  time  of  the  Commonwealth,  it  must  have  reached  the  author  of 
Tom  Jones  by  tradition;  for  no  one  will  suspect  the  present  author 
of  making  the  anachronism. 


Note  4,  p.  200 

The  quotations  of  the  learned  doctor  and  antiquary  were  often 
left  uninterpreted,  though  seldom  uncommunicated,  owing  to  his 
contempt  for  those  who  did  not  understand  the  learned  languages, 
and  his  dislike  to  the  labour  of  translation,  for  the  benefit  of  ladies 

38  369 


NOTES 

and  of  country  gentlemen.  That  fair  readers  and  country  thanes 
may  not  on  this  occasion  burst  in  ignorance,  we  add  the  meaning 
of  the  passage  in  the  text  —  '  Virtue  requires  the  aid  of  a  governor 
and  director;  vices  are  learned  without  a  teacher.' 

Note  5,  p.  208 

The  Familists  were  originally  founded  by  David  George  of 
Delft,  an  enthusiast,  who  believed  himself  the  Messiah.  They 
branched  off  into  various  sects  of  Grindletonians,  Familists  of  the 
Mountains,  of  the  Valleys,  Familists  of  Cape  Order,  etc.  etc.,  of  the 
Scattered  Flock,  etc.  etc.  Among  doctrines  too  wild  and  foul  to 
be  quoted,  they  held  the  lawfulness  of  occasional  conformity  with 
any  predominant  sect  when  it  suited  their  convenience,  of  com- 
plying with  the  order  of  any  magistrate,  or  superior  power,  how- 
ever sinful.  They  disowned  the  principal  doctrines  of  Christian- 
ity, as  a  law  which  had  been  superseded  by  the  advent  of  David 
George;  nay,  obeyed  the  wildest  and  loosest  dictates  of  evil  pas- 
sions, and  are  said  to  have  practised  among  themselves  the  gross- 
est hbertinism.  See  Edward's  Gangrcena,  Pagitt's  Heresiographia, 
and  a  very  curious  work  written  by  Ludovic  Claxton,  one  of  the 
leaders  of  the  sect,  called  the  Lost  Sheep  Found,  small  quarto, 
London,  1660. 

Note  6,  p.  246 

'You  do  not  know  Patrick  Carey,'  says  King  Charles  in  the 
novel;  and,  what  is  more  singular,  Patrick  Carey  has  had  two 
editors,  each  unknown  alike  to  the  other,  except  by  name  only.  In 
1 77 1,  Mr.  John  Murray  published  Carey's  Poems,  from  a  collec- 
tion said  to  be  in  the  hands  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Pierspoint  Crimp. 
A  very  probable  conjecture  is  stated,  that  the  author  was  only 
known  to  private  friendship.  As  late  as  1819,  the  Author  of 
Waverley,  ignorant  of  the  edition  of  177 1,  published  a  second 
quarto  from  an  elaborate  manuscript,  though  in  bad  order,  ap- 
parently the  autograph  of  the  first.  Of  Carey,  the  second  editor, 
like  the  first,  only  knew  the  name  and  the  spirit  of  the  verses. 
He  has  since  been  enabled  to  ascertain  that  the  poetic  Cavalier 
was  a  younger  brother  of  the  celebrated  Henry  Lord  Carey,  who 
fell  at  the  battle  of  Newbury,  and  escaped  the  researches  of  Hor- 
ace Walpole,  to  whose  list  of  noble  authors  he  would  have  been  an 
important  addition.  So  completely  has  the  fame  of  the  great 
Lord  Falkland  eclipsed  that  of  his  brothers,  that  this  brother 
Patrick  has  been  overlooked  even  by  genealogists. 

370 


NOTES 

Note  7,  p.  259 

On  a  particular  occasion,  a  lady,  suspecting,  by  the  passage  of 
a  body  of  guards  through  her  estate,  that  the  arrest  of  her  neigh- 
bour, Patrick  Home  of  Polwarth,  afterwards  first  Earl  of  March- 
mont,  was  designed,  sent  him  a  feather  by  a  shepherd  boy,  whom 
she  dared  not  trust  with  a  more  expHcit  message.  Danger  sharp- 
ens the  intellect,  and  this  hint  was  the  commencement  of  those 
romantic  adventures  which  gave  Grizzel  Lady  Murray  the  ma- 
terials from  which  she  compiled  her  account  of  her  grandfather's 
escape,  pubUshed  by  Mr.  Thomas  Thomson,  Deputy-Register 
of  Scotland.  The  anecdote  of  the  feather  does  not  occur  there, 
but  the  Author  has  often  heard  it  from  the  late  Lady  Diana  Scott, 
the  lineal  descendant  and  representative  of  Patrick  Earl  of 
Marchmont. 

Note  8,  p.  322 

Tredagh,  or  Drogheda,  was  taken  by  Cromwell  in  1649,  by 
storm,  and  the  governor  and  whole  garrison  put  to  the  sword. 

Note  9,  p.  363 

It  may  interest  some  readers  to  know,  that  Bevis,  the  gallant 
hound,  one  of  the  handsomest  and  most  active  of  the  ancient  High- 
land deer-hounds,  had  his  prototype  in  a  dog  called  Maida,  the 
gift  of  the  late  Chief  of  Glengarry  to  the  Author.  A  beautiful 
sketch  of  him  was  made  by  Edwin  Landseer,  and  afterwards  en- 
graved. I  cannot  suppress  the  avowal  of  some  personal  vanity 
when  I  mention,  that  a  friend,  going  through  Munich,  picked  up 
a  common  snuff-box,  such  as  are  sold  for  one  franc,  on  which  was 
displayed  the  form  of  this  veteran  favourite,  simply  marked  as 
'Der  Lieblingshund  von  Walter  Scott.'  Mr.  Landseer's  painting  is 
at  Blair-Adam,  the  property  of  my  venerable  friend,  the  Right 
Honourable  Lord  Chief  Commissioner  Adam. 


GLOSSARY 


adjutator,  an '  agitator,'  a  Parliament- 
ary soldier  chosen  to  look,  after 
the  common  interests  of  a  band. 

an,  if. 

Andrew  Ferrara,  a  Scottish  broad- 
sword. 

assentation,  the  giving  of  obsequious 
assent  to  another  person's  opinions. 

bane,  a  bone. 

bastinado,  a  mode  of  punishment  by 

beating  the  soles  of  the  feet  with  a 

rod. 
bide  the  bit  and  the  buffet,  to  put  up 

with  the  food  and  the  insult, 
bilbo,  bilboa,  a  rapier, 
bilk,  trick. 
black-jack,  a  leather  jug  for  holding 

liquor. 
blaud,  a  rough  blow. 
brae,  sloping  ground,  the  declivity  of 

a  hill. 
bread  of  Gudel    God's  bread! — an 

oath. 
buff-coat,  a  stout  coat  of  buS  leather. 

carolus,  a  gold  coin  struck  in  the  reign 
of  Charles  I,  and  worth  20s.  or  a 
little  more. 

cassock,  a  military  cloak  or  long  coat. 

castor,  a  beaver  hat. 

chaldron,  chaudron,  entrails. 

cheveron,  chevron,  a  glove. 

chouse,  cheat. 

clouterly,  clumsy,  awkward. 

collet,  the  edge  round  the  setting  of  a 
precious  stone. 

cross,  money  stamped  or  marked 
with  a  cross. 

cucking-stool,  a  chair  in  which  disor- 
derly women  or  other  offenders 
were  exposed  or  ducked. 

cuerpo,  in,  without  upper  cloak,  with 
the  body  exposed. 


culverin,  an  early  form  of  cannon, 
cutter's   law,    that   those   who   have 

something  should  share  with  those 

who  have  nothing;  a  cutter  is  a 

ruffian  or  bravo, 
cutty-stool,  a  low  stool,  especially  a 

particular    seat   in    church    where 

offenders  had  to  sit. 

dowg,  a  dog. 
drumble,  to  mumble, 
dudgeon-dagger,  a  small  dagger  with 

a  boxwood  haft. 
dunny,  deaf,  stupid. 

foin,  to  thrust, 
fox,  an  old  term  for  a  sword, 
frank,  a  pen,  a  pig-sty. 
frayed,  frightened. 

gaberdine,  a  loose  upper  garment  of 

coarse  material, 
gae,  go. 

gamashes,  leggings. 
gambade,  a  curvet,  a  gambol, 
ganging  till,  going  to. 
garred,  made,  caused,  forced, 
gear,  affair,  business. 
gossipred,  intimacy,  friendship, 
gude,  good,  God. 
gudgeon,  to  cheat. 

hae,  have. 

baU,  whole. 

halberd,  a  combination  of  spear  and 

battlij-axe. 
haro,  to  cry,  to  raise  a  hue  and  cry. 
hot,  hit. 

I  'se,  I  shall. 

jack-pudding,  a  buffoon  or  merry- 
aniirew  who  performed  common 
conjuring  tricks. 


373 


GLOSSARY 


lance-prisade,  lance-brisade,  a  sort  of 
temporary  corporal. 

levant,  a  signal  given  with  a  trum- 
pet. 

lie  leaguer,  to  serve  as  ambassador. 

Undabrides,  a  sort  of  court  name  for  a 
woman  of  no  reputation. 

madrier,  the  plank  on  which  a  petard 
was  fixed  or  mounted. 

maik,  make,  a  halfpenny. 

malapert,  impertinent. 

manchet,  a  small  loaf  of  fine  white 
bread. 

maravedi,  an  old  Spanish  copper 
coin. 

Mass  John,  any  Presbyterian  divine. 

meikle,  much,  a  good  deal. 

men,  man. 

Moriscoes,  the  descendants  of  the 
Moors  who  were  settled  in  Spain. 

muscadine,  a  sweet  and  strong  Ital- 
ian wine. 

noble,  a  gold  coin  worth  6s.  8d. 
nuUifidian,  an  unbeliever. 

ony,  any. 

other-guess,     of     another     sort     or 

fashion. 
over-red,    to    cover   over    with    red 

colouring  matter,  to  summon  up 

courage  against. 

parcel,  partly. 

passmented,  laced. 

paynim,  pagan. 

peak,  to  peep,  to  pry. 

penny-fee,  wages. 

peruke,  a  periwig,  a  wig. 

petronel,  a  horse-pistol. 

pipe,  a  large  cask  used  especially  for 

wine    and    containing    about    105 

imperial  gallons. 
Portugal  piece,  a  'piece  of   eight,'  a 

silver  coin  worth  4^. 
pottle,   a  tankard   containing   about 

two  quarts. 

quarter-staff,  a  stout  pole  six  to  eight 

feet  long  and  tii)ped  with  iron. 
quean,  a  wench,  a  light  woman. 


quillet,  a  subtlety,  a  nicety,  a  quibble, 
quoit  down,  to  throw  or  hurl  down. 

rochet,  rocket,  a  short  cloak. 

rood,  a  cross. 

rouse,  a  bumper. 

runlet,    a    small    barrel    containing 

about  18  gallons. 

sausage,  a  linen  bag  filled  with  gun- 
powder. 

scald,  scurvy,  paltry,  contemptible. 

scrambling,  irregular,  rambling. 

sewer,  a  butler. 

skelder,  to  live  by  begging. 

skill,  to  avail. 

skink,  to  pour  out  and  serve  wine,  etc. 

slot,  the  track,  footmarks. 

snift,  a  snivel. 

spadroon,  a  long  sword,  but  lighter 
than  the  broadsword. 

squab,  plump,  fat. 

strama^on,  a  felling  blow. 

Tantivy  boy,  a  roystering  Royalist, 
tester,    an    old    French    silver    coin, 

worth  sixpence,  originally  is.  6d. 
tiffany,  a  kind  of  gauze  or  thin  silk. 
tike,  a  dog. 
Toledo,  a  sword  made  at  Toledo,  in 

Spain. 
trine  to  the  nubbing  cheat,  hang  on 

the  gallows. 

umbles,  entrails. 

unbated,   without  a  button  on  the 

point. 
unco,  very,  unusually,  uncommonly. 

vera,  very. 

verdurer,  the  officer  who  had  charge 

of  the  trees  and  underwood  in  the 

royal  forest. 
visnomy,  visage. 

wadna,  would  not. 

wain,  a  waggon. 

wanion,  vengeance. 

weird,  fate. 

whittle,  a  large  knife. 

word,  to  dispute,  to  contend  in  words. 

wuss,  to  wish. 


CAMBRIDGE  .  MASSACHUSETTS 
U   .   S    .   A 


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